


Come As You Are

by Welsh_Woman



Series: Where Your Heart Is, I Am Home [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bad Friend Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Bittersweet Ending, Compliant Until Season 5A, Dark Imagery, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Derek Hale Leaves Beacon Hills, Discussion of Traumatic Events, Discussion of past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, M/M, Oblivious Derek, POV Derek, Panic Attacks, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Protectiveness, Slow Build, Stiles Stilinski Leaves Beacon Hills, Werewolf Derek Hale, stiles is something
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-09-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 55,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25988656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Welsh_Woman/pseuds/Welsh_Woman
Summary: Derek has finally found a bit of peace after the hell that was his return to Beacon Hills. He has a routine, a warm home, he even has adog!Then, one ordinary day, Stiles Stilinski shows up at his door with shoulders broader than he remembered, still carrying far too much.Maybe Derek can share the peace he found and ease the burden that Stiles bears...
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Where Your Heart Is, I Am Home [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1886227
Comments: 168
Kudos: 527





	1. Welcome to Slate

**Author's Note:**

> This would not be possible without all the peeps at the Cuddly Snuggly Zone Discord. You all are amazing and I love you to bits!
> 
> My beta is the loverly Kikidoesfanfic and WhisperingSumire, who was part beta, part cheerleader. Thank you, darlings!

The very first thing Derek does when he drives into the tiny town of Slate, tucked somewhere between Beacon Hills and several other states Derek drove through after the dust settled on the latest crisis that pulled him back to that Hellhole, is look for somewhere out of the way he can stay.

Somewhere far enough away from town that the chance of ‘friendly neighbors’ is almost nonexistent. Somewhere where there are fewer chances of innocent lives getting in the way if his rotten luck follows him to Slate. Somewhere where he can slip into his wolf skin and not worry about Hunters shooting holes in his sides…

Somewhere he can finally have a bit of _peace_.

Turns out that the only place that suits his needs is a house in the middle of the woods, about a good hour away from the rest of the town, on top of a decent sized hill. A quick sniff around, something that he hides from the real estate agent who was already giving him unwanted looks, informs him that there _was_ a family of supernaturals living here at some point. A curt question to the agent tells him they left a good decade ago, and that no one has been interested in the house since, because of it both being a small town and rumors that it was haunted.

Scoffing at that, Derek looks over the building once more, unsure if this is the place he should settle into or not, despite the fact that he really doesn’t have any other options lined up in wait.

It _is_ a rather nice house, though; a large, two story place that will probably feel lonely and empty in the coming months, but also isn’t so small that Derek will feel like he’s caged in or trapped. There are wide, sun facing windows on the upper floors and what looks like what might have been a garden out the back when he had peeked out there during the tour. There is _definitely_ an overgrown rosebush on either side of the entrance way and Derek allows himself to think about using the tricks his mother taught him to prune that back into order, maybe even take his Dad’s teachings to heart and build a deck out to the garden in the back.

The voice in his head, the one that is suspiciously starting to sound more and more like Stiles, whispers that he’d have plenty of room to house a Pack, if he wasn’t such a grumpy old man that would probably hole himself up inside and give credence to the ghost stories floating around.

Derek ignores it.

He still buys the house, though, snapping at the agent when she tries to offer to give him a ‘private showing’ later that night. It makes his inner Stiles sigh, but eventually concede that the woman crossed a line and deserved a bit of fangs.

Pushing away the knowledge that he’s arguing the merits of being nice to people with _a voice in his head_ , Derek begins moving in almost immediately, packing the few things he had stored into boxes and hauling them up the long drive to the house. Whatever he doesn’t have, he buys at the grocery in town, ignoring the whispers of the few people brave enough to wonder why he’s there and what brought him to this town to begin with.

So far, he’s heard; serial killer on the run, newly released from prison, or the black sheep of the family trying to get out from his shenanigan-filled youth to make a fresh start. Derek has to chuckle at that one, even giving the old woman that said it a slight smile. She turns a little red, embarrassed by him hearing her, but other than that she gives him a brief nod and continues on her way.

He doesn’t really let the whispers get to him; he _is_ brand new, and it is only natural to be wary of a stranger when this seems like the kind of town that everyone grew up together in. Derek can’t smell any outright maliciousness, only a bit of annoyance when someone’s partner spends a little too long checking the ‘new guy’ out, so he figures that after a little while, people will probably give him no more attention than he gives them.

All in all, it doesn’t take him that long to move in. A week, given how long it had taken to find the house, buy the house, and get everything together so he won’t have to head into town any time soon.

Which is depressing enough, and makes Derek want to pull down everything that he put together and leave _already_ , but he decides to put his frustration to better use and see if this place has some gym he can abuse.

He drives around for a while and spots a few different places, only one made of brick and looking like it was put together by hand. He walks in and is pleased everyone only gives him a cursory glance before going back to what they were doing. Yes, there _had_ been interest there, but it had been the normal kind that came with someone new entering their space.

After chatting with the receptionist about cost and times the gym was open, Derek sets a tentative date for the following Sunday to go over the rest of the forms and meet the owner of the gym. While the forms were more for the government and the bank, meeting the owner was the real deal breaker on whether Derek could join.

When asked about why that was, the girl had smiled and said, “Alex is _fantastic_ at seeing if someone is coming to exercise or just bother the rest of the patrons. There’s a reason the high roller gyms are practically empty, despite their claims to have ‘everything the strongman needs’ there-”

-this is said with an exaggerated eye-roll, making Derek bite back a grin-

“-while Alex makes sure that everyone here feels comfortable and safe. Whether for exercise or fun, **_nobody_ ** should feel molested while at _Barbells and Bench Presses_. And that is something you can take to the bank!”

Derek has to laugh at her enthusiasm, not at all bothered by the extra precautions and even considering adding a bit of back-up if this ‘Alex’ ever needed it. As it is, he thanks the receptionist — “Michelle, please!” - for her time and leaves with a smile on his face.

Deciding that he needs a treat for doing so much today — _“Actually socializing like a big boy! I’m so proud of you!”_ — Derek makes his way over to The Beanery, a small coffee shop tucked in between a bookstore and a Mom & Pops store when a faint whimper catches his attention.

It’s both refreshing and upsetting how quickly his body goes into defensive mode, tensing up and pushing back every bit of relaxation and calm that he found, but it still helps keep the pounding of his heart to a minimum as he breathes in the surrounding area.

The scent of coffee and perfumes are strong in the air, but not so strong as to overcome any wolfsbane that might be around… Not getting a hint of any, Derek takes a few steps towards the alleyway bisecting the coffee shop and bookstore, right as another whimper floats out.

Hesitating for a moment, Derek takes another cautionary breath before deciding to make his way into the alley. There had been no scent of metal or wolfsbane, no hints that this could be a trap. It wouldn’t make sense for one to be here, anyway, as this place was far too crowded and-

His thoughts are cut off by a pained yowl and a rattle of _something_ before a small bag falls from behind one of the larger garbage containers sitting in the back, unfolding as it falls and finally revealing the source of the cries.

It’s a dog.

Well, a puppy, really. Some sort of Labrador mix with deep chocolate fur, long gangly limbs, and looking up at Derek with the most _pitiful_ expression that he has ever seen.

“Oh, man…” Derek sighs, reaching down to untangle the pup from the bag around the pup’s legs, large paws eager to help but only making a bigger mess of things. After a quick once over to make sure that there aren’t any serious wounds (and to find out that the little one in his arms is a boy), Derek sighs again as he scratches the puppy behind the ears almost absentmindedly.

“This doesn’t mean I’m keeping you.”

The puppy doesn’t seem to believe him, if Derek was going by the thumping tail against his side, but then again, Derek didn’t even believe _himself_. It had been a while since he had a pet and he can’t help falling in love a little with the eager energy of the pup in his arms, helped along by the happy tongue licking at his chin.

“Well, keeping you or not, we’d better check that you’re healthy and up to date with all of your shots.” The puppy yips happily in response and Derek shakes his head as he heads towards his car, pulling his keys out of his pocket and coffee now forgotten in his new quest.

“I’m talking to a dog, now. I can already hear the hermit jokes…”

Derek’s inner Stiles laughs at that and makes a comment about how fitting it is that the first genuine connection that Derek made in town was with a _puppy_.

Shifting gears as he heads to a veterinary clinic he saw earlier; Derek can’t help but agree with that thought.

It doesn’t stop the grin he can feel tugging at his lips, though.

* * *

The vet — as far as one might get from a certain cryptic asshole — gives the pup a clean bill of health and a few vaccinations. The ministrations are something that Bean — Derek had considered it fitting, given where he had found the dog — had been pretty against, but had settled down a bit when Derek had promised him a few strips of bacon when they got home.

The thought makes Derek pause in his petting of Bean, something that the dog makes his displeasure of known with a whine. Resuming the motion with only half his mind on the task, Derek wonders at the fact that he’s only been here for a few days, and that it feels more like a home than New York or Beacon Hills, Post Fire ever did.

He supposes that the lack of things trying to viciously kill him is a big contributing factor.

After one last look over, the vet - “Call me Dr. Daithi, please.” - informs Derek that, baring future vaccines and regular checkups, Bean should be fine to take home. At Derek’s surprised look, Dr. Daithi pauses for a moment and offers to keep him at the veterinary, if Derek changed his mind about keeping him. 

Either because he can feel the shifting mood or he can understand what some of the words mean, Bean lets out a plaintive howl that jerks Derek out of his confused state.

“Of course I’ll take him. I just thought… that he might have gotten away from someone-”

“Oh! I see the confusion here. My apologies.” Daithi gives Derek a slight smile, crow’s feet wrinkling at the corners of his eyes as he gives Bean a quick scratch behind his ears. “Usually we _do_ have a general search to make sure that the animals in our care are returned to their proper owner, but since this is such a small town and I’m usually the one people come to for pet care, so I can say with almost absolute certainty that this little guy is a hundred percent owner free.”

Derek is a little dumbstruck by this turn of events, but not so shocked that he doesn’t return Bean’s joyous bark with a smile of his own as he picks the puppy up to press him against his chest. Daithi smiles at the motion, nodding once before speaking again.

“I can run a precursory search, though, just to be on the safe side. Would you still be comfortable taking him home with you in the meantime?”

“Ummm, yeah. It’s no problem. Just let me know how it turns out, even if that means no one comes for him… Do you know where I can get some supplies?”

The vet laughs a little, reaching out and giving Bean one last pet behind the ears before walking over to his desk and rattling off some things needed for Bean’s care. Derek tries to remember everything that Daithi tells him, but is grateful that the man gives him a list of things afterward. Derek also leaves his phone number with the man, in case someone does end up coming in and claiming the puppy.

Three hours after leaving the house that morning, Derek comes back with armfuls of dog supplies, a dog, and a lighter heart than he had that morning.

Not bad for a first day.

Bean takes advantage of Derek putting all his gear away to stick his nose into nearly everything in reach, making quite a few things clatter and bang while Derek is otherwise preoccupied. Thankfully, both because he still is putting things away in the lower shelves of his house and he does not have much to begin with, nothing important gets damaged in Bean’s wanderings.

Although all of this just reminds Derek to get some baby proof latches for his cupboards and a gate for the stairs at night. Bean can barely stand on his own paws; Derek would feel _incredibly_ guilty if the pup took a tumble down the stairs and hurt himself, simply because Derek couldn’t be assed to install some safety precautions.

Inner-Stiles coos at what a good pet-Daddy Derek is being, wondering if Derek is putting in practice for when he tries being an _actual_ Daddy-Daddy. Shutting that line of thinking off with a sharp shake of his head, Derek scoops Bean up from where he was investigating his new bed and begins showing him around the house.

“All right; living room. We will rest here and relax. I usually read when the mood strikes me, and you can have free range of the carpet here. You will not be allowed on any of the couches or chairs, I’m serious now.”

Bean gives a brief bark at that, tail wagging in the most innocent way, and Derek has to shake his head at the motion. He knows that he will probably cave on that decision pretty soon, given that he wasn’t even going to keep Bean to begin with, but he now has an armful of puppy and is showing him around the house.

“I was an Alpha once, you know?” Derek tells Bean, accepting the licks the puppy gives his chin and giving him a scratch behind the ears. “People used to be scared of me and crossed the road to avoid talking to me… Now, I’m already thinking about how I will cave into letting you sleep on the couch.”

Cocking his head a bit, Bean yips once more, wiggling a little in Derek’s hold before settling more comfortably against Derek’s chest. Sighing with a defeated air and deciding not to fight absolutely falling in love with the squirming ball of fur, Derek continues with the tour.

“Connected to the living room is the kitchen. This is where we will prepare meals and eat, hopefully more than once a day. I have an awful habit of forgetting to eat when I get focused on things, so you might have to remind me to feed you every now and again.”

At the word ‘feed’, or perhaps because Bean has been scenting the air ever since they entered the room, the puppy immediately starts wiggling again and pushing against Derek to get to the bowls in the corner. With a soft laugh, Derek sets Bean down and watches as he trips his way over to his food, eagerly diving face-first into the kibble.

 _Looks like you might also need a mop there, Der-Bear_.

Frowning in thought, Derek pulls out his phone and thumbs through his messages; there are a few from Cora talking about her adventures in South America, an invitation from an alpha two states over to stop by when he passes through again, and a wall of text from Stiles ranting about the college professor that was ‘basically Harris 2: The Jackass Returns’ a few weeks into the fall semester.

He doesn’t know when Stiles got his number, or why he didn’t change it when he left Beacon Hills. Getting a new number to Cora would have been easy enough, and Stiles was the only one that had his number besides her that used it with any regularity, so it wasn’t like he needed to avoid anyone else calling him out of the blue...

Deciding not to overthink it, Derek points the phone at Bean, clicks a picture, and sends it. After another moment, he adds a text that simply says, “Got a puppy today.”

The response is almost instantaneous; a flurry of beeps and notifications coming in so fast that Derek wonders if Stiles is even typing, or just throwing emojis at him. He would bet on it being the later, based on the speed the texts come in, but knowing Stiles, he could have all kinds of shortcuts on his phone just for quick texting.

Derek decides to leave his reply until the morning. He figured he had enough unfamiliar things happening in one day, and he feels like teasing Stiles by making him wait. It’s a delightful change from checking his phone every second for an answer to a question that might end up saving his life, and he feels a childlike giddiness at seeing bits of Stiles’ incoming texts showing him the man’s affront at being denied ‘important information’.

Like Bean’s name.

Yawning widely, Derek makes sure that Bean is bedded down for the night before heading upstairs, checking that the front door is locked and the windows are closed as he goes.

Plugging in his phone as he makes it to his bed, Derek can't help the smirk that blooms when he imagines the outraged voicemail he has in his future. Stripping down to his boxers, Derek slides under his covers with a sigh, hoping that the next few days are as good as this one.

Just hopefully less eventful.


	2. Introducing Olga Phee

Bean is an endless fount of energy and exasperation, but Derek weathers it with a smile and a steady hand. He realizes that the puppy is a… well, _a puppy_ and that he needs to be patient with the small animal. It’s almost like dealing with a child, with how new and inexperienced with the world Bean is, and Derek can’t help but be reminded of his first few days with his makeshift Pack.

He wonders if he had this mindset with his Betas, that things might have turned out differently.

Inner-Stiles reassures him he did the best he could, soothing the roiling in Derek’s stomach whenever he thinks about the three teenagers that he once called his Pack.

It takes a few days of training, but Derek feels comfortable enough with Bean to take him into town. It is both a bit of cabin fever and a test to see how well his training is going; it’s a little hard to tell when all Bean has to interact with is Derek, so seeing how he reacts in a small crowd will let Derek know if he needs to change up their routine.

Clipping the leash to Bean’s collar, Derek gives a little whistle and begins to slowly jog towards the town, grinning as Bean immediately begins pulling on the leash and trying to practically trip Derek up with it.

As well as the obedience training has gone, the pup still _loves_ his morning runs.

After a few miles, Bean gets into the head-space of their runs, keeping up with Derek and not trying to pull ahead. It makes Derek smile to see how Bean’s stomach has filled out, coat a glossy sheen. It’s visual proof that this animal is being treated well by him.

In no time at all, they have entered the sleepy town of Slate, and Derek slows down to spend a few minutes praising Bean for how well he did. He even goes as far as to feed the pup a few treats, something that Bean appreciates with wet kisses and a thumping tail.

The first place that they head off to is the little coffee shop that Derek first found Bean behind. The Beanery is warm and cozy, gentle browns covering the walls and a few overstuffed sofas tucked up in corners around the area, looking welcoming enough that Derek just wants to fall into one of them and not get back out for like… an hour. 

Bean gives a small bark beside him, reminding Derek of his original purpose here, small body quivering with barely suppressed energy. With a soft ‘heel’, Derek leads the puppy up to the counter to place his order.

Bean’s behavior holds through Derek ordering and finding a seat, holds through him people watching as his drink gets made and when he gets up again, and it even holds for a good half hour while Derek drinks his coffee and dicks around on his phone.

The only time Bean’s discipline wavers is right as Derek is about to leave and a voice rings out, “Now, who is _this_ beautiful thing?”

Bean jerks towards the voice, toenails clicking against the linoleum floor and almost yanking the leash out of Derek’s hand due to his surprise. A sharp, ‘Bean, sit!’ drops the puppy’s haunches to the floor, but they keep raising every few moments, like Bean is only waiting for the barest hint of an okay before he enthusiastically greets the newcomer.

“Sorry. I just love dogs and was excited to see one in the shop. I didn’t mean to mess up your training…” The girl who called out blushes a little at the look Derek gives her, head dipping down in embarrassment. After a few minutes of silence, in which Derek takes in the green Beanery apron that marks the girl as one of the employees, Derek’s Inner-Stiles nudges Derek to say something and not leave the poor girl just standing there.

“What’s your name?”

_Bra- **vo** , Sourwolf. A question mark and everything!_

The girl gives Derek a slight smile as she brushes a lock of ebony hair behind her ear and says, “Olga. Olga Phee.”

For the first time since it’s been happening, one of the things that his Inner-Stiles has been whispering in his ear makes it out of Derek’s mouth. “I thought that Olgas were all old women.”

That earns him a blank look for a good minute or two, something that has Derek mentally facepalming at the utter _stupidity_ of asking that, before her shoulders start shaking. For a moment or two, Derek is _terrified_ that he just made the poor girl **_cry_** , but then she’s throwing her head back and _laughing_.

“Well, old Olgas have to start out as young Olgas, you know!”

Her laughter goes on for a few moments, but Derek isn’t upset at being the butt of a joke. Besides being relieved at not insulting the poor girl, her teasing nature reminds him of Peter-Before-The-Fire: sassy and a little mean. Granted, Peter was _still_ sassy now (or was, Derek isn’t sure what he’s doing now), but that has almost been crushed by the mean and cynical tone his words had the last time Derek had talked to him...

“Hey, are you okay?”

Jerking his head up, Derek is a little shocked that he got so lost into his memories. His sudden movement makes Olga flinch, but she doesn’t move that far away. It takes a few minutes before he remembers that she asked him a question, then to actually answer it.

“Yeah, sorry.” She gives him a look like she doesn’t believe him, but Derek meets her stare with his own, so she eventually shrugs and lets the question drop. Derek lets Bean’s leash go a little loose, which is Bean’s cue to immediately rush towards Olga with a joyful bark, snuffling into her hands as soon as she holds them out.

“Oh, who is a beautiful boy? You are! Yes, you are! Yes, you are!”

Derek actually laughs a little at that, making Olga look over at him with a smile and something in his chest feels a little lighter.

 _Oh. I suppose that makes sense. I can’t_ **_just_ ** _have a dog as a friend._

Derek shakes his head, a thought taking root in his mind even as he says, “His name is Bean. Mine is Derek, if you were interested.”

Olga goes a little red and Derek feels pleased that he managed to make a joke without insulting anyone. A part of him is also proud that he’s managing to make a friend with someone whose loyalty can’t be bought with strips of bacon.

Well, he _thinks_ it can’t. For all he knows, that _could_ be her favorite food...

“What are you grinning at?” Although her face still is a bit red, Olga doesn’t look that upset. More, there is a teasing tone to both her voice and body, one hand out to Bean with one of those treats she was talking about earlier in it.

Derek takes another discrete sniff, and is not hit with any kind of desire or interest, other than the normal curiosity that comes from a break in the routine. It makes Derek’s grin grow, even as he shrugs out a “Nothing.” to her repeated question.

“Uh-huh.”

After Olga gets called back to work, a few minutes after Bean has completely decimated her treat supply, Derek decides that Bean needs a bit of a run to work off the extra snack he got that day. Bean has no complaints, as he loves to run and would almost pull the leash out of Derek’s hand if not for his wolf strength.

They make it around the border of the town, a few runners giving them a wave as they go, before Derek decides to head them towards home. Bean gives a bark when he starts to understand where they’re headed, speed kicking up a few notches when they make it up their own driveway.

“I’d say that was a decent day, what about you, pup?”

Bean barks in agreement, little hops showing how excited he is by... well, everything. Derek has to laugh at that, guessing that he’d probably be pretty happy as well if he had spent the entire day being fawned over and fed treats.

Inner-Stiles makes a comment of being more than happy to fill that role, if Derek would finally text him. Gently pushing the thought to the side, Derek _does_ pull out his phone and grins at the messages that he’s received that morning, right after he finally told Stiles’ Bean’s name.

**_OF COURSE you would find a dog behind a coffee shop and name them Bean! You are SUCH an old man!_ **

Huffing out a laugh, Derek writes out a response to Stiles, making sure to let him know that more than one person in town thought Bean was a cute name. And fit his puppy very well.

**_I didn’t say that it didn’t fit him, Grumpywolf. Just that you were an old man for naming him that way. And the fact that you had people vouch for you proves it! OLD MAN!!_ **

Derek laughs out loud at that, shaking his head at Stiles’ insistence that there being a few years between them automatically make Derek ‘practically a grandpa’ and never missing an opportunity to tease him about it.

Bean comes running back into the living room at the laughter, immediately hopping onto the couch that Derek had correctly guessed he wouldn’t be able to keep the dog off of. Derek takes a picture of the puppy and sends it as a reply to Stiles’ comment, which earns him a frustrated text of Derek not fighting fair and distracting him with adorable puppy pictures.

Chuckling, Derek settles into a long night of texting with Stiles, wondering if this will be a conversation filled with complaints about his teachers (which hasn’t happened in a while, leaving Derek to believe that Stiles has somehow learned not to antagonize them), or complaints about his father not taking care of himself.

**_Speaking of hearing from other people, you would not BELIEVE what my Dad thinks he can get away with!_ **

Complaints about his father it is, then.


	3. Enter An Old Friend

The weeks that follow see Derek and Bean making it a habit to visit Olga and the Beanery every time that they make their run into town, the younger girl always happy to see them. She slowly loses her shyness around Derek, showing a personality that reminds him of all the best parts of Laura and Erica. Sometimes, those reminders make him go short and shut down, but Olga never seems to begrudge him that. Granted, she _had_ smelt hurt and a little disappointed the first time it happened, but after she realized that it wasn’t _her_ , just little bits of memory that still sat sharp and jagged in his chest, well-

On those days, the days he watches the way she flits around the room, drawing the eye despite not trying, her sass and wit flying like birds in summertime... Those days she simply directs him to a corner table and leaves him alone for the rest of the time he’s there, and even goes as far as to direct other people away from him that want to talk. It’s comforting without being confining, making Derek feel nostalgic and guilty in turns, and always ends with more than a few extra dollars in her tip jar.

The generosity makes her blush and insist that she doesn’t need it, even as she sneaks Bean a few treats whenever she thinks Derek isn’t looking. He doesn’t make a big deal out of it, as Bean has a healthy meal plan otherwise, and it’s only fair that even dogs get cheat days.

It’s the least that he can do, after all that she’s done for him.

The Beanery is not the only place he visits as the weeks go by; he makes a few trips to the local general store in town and purchases a decent amount of lumber, nails, and other crafting equipment. It takes a few days, but Derek slowly remembers enough that he makes a decent sized deck out the back door, laughing at himself the first time he hears Bean nails skittering across the varnished wood and already making plans for a fence to follow.

 _Barbells and Bench Presses_ also becomes one of his regular go-tos after he meets with Alex, a quiet individual that chats with Derek for a little bit and declares him a ‘decent guy’.

That may have more to do with the way Derek has immediately and earnestly said that he was more than willing to help throw people that started shit out, man _or_ woman. Alex had looked at him for a little bit, then nodded and gave Derek a lifetime membership for a ridiculously low price. When asked about it, Alex had shrugged one shoulder and stated that Derek was doing security work for him, if it ever came down to it, so it made sense he got a bit of a deal.

The people in this town were a little strange... but Derek would take strange over the shitstorm his other life had been.

He had started thinking of it like that a few days ago; his other life. Like the moment he had entered Slate had cut off Beacon Hills and all that came Before, to Slate and all the people in it being his Now.

His nightmares of Before are still an issue, one that Derek is sure will never truly go away, but they’re not as frequent as when he was fighting for his life every other Thursday. So Derek decides to take the bad with the good and just be grateful that the worst is that there are some nights he gets up a bit earlier than usual and eats the pastries that Olga makes hot out of the oven when he makes his way to the Beanery.

It is on one of those days that Derek takes Bean out on an earlier run; the puppy making little disgruntled noises as he wakes that make Derek chuckle and promise bacon when they make it back home. He’s just made it out the door when something makes him pause…

Bean’s ears perk up almost as soon as the sound of footsteps reach Derek, but it’s the heartbeat that really grabs his attention.

The back of a cop car.

A pool.

An elevator shaft.

The back of an ambulance.

He has heard that particular heart beating out in so many different ways… He knows _exactly_ who is coming up that hill.

What is surprising is the way he reacts to the knowledge:

His heart _immediately_ starts pounding, but not in a positive or an excited way, no. It takes a few moments, because it has been a while since this particular emotion has overcome him, but Derek suddenly realizes that he is **_terrified_**.

Not of Stiles, he was never afraid of Stiles; afraid _for_ him, yes, but never _of_ him.

It is on the heels of that thought that Derek realizes where his fear is coming from; he’s afraid of what Stiles being here _means_. If he had someone find where Derek is staying to pull him back into the hell that is Beacon Hills in an ill informed attempt to help his best friend... Or offer him up as a bargaining chip to save someone he cared about.

Derek doesn’t have any time to think about that, nor to possibly run into the woods surrounding his house in a childish attempt to hide from Stiles - he knows Stiles would just wait at his door until Derek shows up again - before the man has made it to the top of the hill, hands on his knees for a few moments as he breathes deeply before heaving out a heavy sigh and raising up to meet Derek’s gaze head on.

Stiles looks as much as he did when Derek left Beacon Hills; like energy barely contained behind a spring, like willowy limbs, a sharp movement, and an inner spark that cuts through the darkness like a beacon. The only real change Derek can see is the shadows under his eyes and the weariness clinging to his form, highlighted in the slight dip in his shoulders that only someone that knew him well could see.

Bean immediately takes advantage of Derek’s slack gripped shock to pull the leash out of his hands, bounding over to Stiles with a plethora of playful barks. It earns him a suppressed chuckle, one more difference for Derek to see, before Stiles is dropping to his knees and dragging a hand through Bean’s fur.

“Hey there, pup. How are you doing? Aren’t you a friendly guy?”

“What are you doing here?” It comes out harsher than Derek means, but he’s caught off guard and feeling defensive. The last time that he and Stiles spoke, it wasn’t really talking and more of a texting kind of thing, where Stiles had been excited to start his first year of college and had sent him updates on how much of an asshole some of his teachers were, with random complaints about his father thrown in for variety.

Stiles flinches at the words and even Bean whines a bit, but Derek doesn’t have a chance to explain his tone before Stiles is pushing back to his feet and heading Derek’s way.

He stops a few feet in front of Derek and thrusts his hand out with a brittle grin.

“Why hello, Sourwolf. Nice to see you too. It _has_ been a while, hasn’t it? Nice to see you haven’t lost your antisocial nature, not to mention that giant stick in your ass. I _guess_ I can gather that you’re surprised to see me, but I also _guess_ I was mistaken that you would be _happy_ to see someone that saved your life half a dozen times and _might_ wonder what you’re up to. Don’t worry, I won’t be here long, just enough to get the bare bones of your life and then I’ll fuck right off again.”

“That’s not- I didn’t mean-” Derek growls at himself, at Stiles’ ability to make his words tangle up in this throat and choke him so badly that all he can do is just stand there and stare. It doesn’t help the situation, with Stiles smelling more and more aggravated - with a decent amount of hurt, which just makes Derek’s inability to explain _worse_ \- and even Bean has started making whuffling noises at the rising tension.

“Don’t hurt yourself, Sourwolf.” Stiles smirks, hands gripping the straps of his pack so tight that his knuckles are turning white. “I get that you said fuck it to everything that was Beacon Hills when you left, but the least you could do was offer to let me see what your new home looked like before I disappear from your life entirely.”

Derek growls again, gesturing towards the house behind him and trying not to snap when Stiles pushes past him to make his way to the doorstop, hands on his hips and giving Derek a ‘well, what are you waiting for?’ kind of look.

Sighing as he follows Stiles back the few steps he managed to take before being struck still, mouth just opening to offer some sort of apology, but unable to before Stiles pushes past him to make it inside the house.

Watching as Stiles stomps away, Derek runs a comforting hand over Bean’s head, the puppy whimpering beside him at the heightened tension that he can no doubt sense. He didn’t mean to offend the other man; he was just shocked that Stiles showed up without any warning and he reacted poorly. Now Stiles was pissed off at him and probably would make snide remarks the entire time he was here, if not just decide to stay at Rosa’s B&B.

Picking up Bean’s leash, Derek makes his way into the house, sighing heavily at the irate man standing in his living room and briefly wishing he could start the day over.

Stiles is quiet as he glances around the building, which is worrying in itself, but he also twitches every now and again in a completely new way; before, it was all frantic movement, like his thoughts needed to be shown not only through his words, but his body as well. Now, it seems like they are measured, timed, like Stiles is double checking that he _can_ with every slight tremor of his fingers.

Derek frowns and makes his way to the kitchen, Bean’s toenails clicking on the tile as he follows even after Derek has taken off his leash, no doubt to beg for some kind of treat or snack since their run got interrupted.

“Never figured you out for a dog person. Thought it’d be a cat, if anything.”

“You thought about what kind of pet I’d have?” Derek makes sure that his tone is the proper one this time; light and slightly teasing. Stiles makes a face at him, but that might have more to do with the cup of tea Derek places in his hands than anything else.

“Considering that you were a dark and mysterious werewolf who was more closed lipped than Fort Knox? Yeah, there were a few things I wondered about you. Insomnia and ADD can be a bitch when I hyperfixate.” Stiles takes a sip of the drink, face blooming into surprise. “This is really good.” 

“I’ve learned a few things since I left.” Derek clenches his fists before slowly releasing them with a deep breath, “And I’m sorry for- for how I sounded out there. I was just... _shocked_ to see you suddenly appear on my door and didn’t know _why_ you were there. I didn’t mean to- I wasn’t-”

“Don’t hurt yourself, Sourwolf.” It’s the same phrase as was said outside, but the tone and intonation are completely different. This time, Stiles is telling him not to push himself and take his time, whereas before he was just angry and poking at a wound that he knew would hurt. “I get it. I’m a reminder of all the shit you got away from. I’d freak too. I was... I just thought that you would know that I wouldn’t drag you back there. Not after you got out.”

“Not even if doing so would help or save someone that you loved?” That is the reason there is still a bit of tension pinching the back of his shoulders, that Derek still hasn’t sat down beside Stiles or uncrossed his arms, a move that he knows is defensive and can tell Stiles sees it too.

Rubbing a hand over his face, Stiles leans forward and grips his cup like a lifeline as he stares off into the distance. “I don’t know, man. I wish I could tell you that I wouldn’t, that I’d tell whoever that was fucking with us to shove it were the sun don’t shine, but... if it were my Dad...? I don’t know, I don’t know but I want you to know that I would _never_ lead them to you, **_never_ ** would walk right up to your house and deliver them to your door.”

Derek sighs out a nod, taking the promise for what it is. After all, can he say anything different? For all that Cora lives half a continent away from him, there isn’t much that he wouldn’t do to make sure that she was safe and - like Stiles so eloquently put it - he couldn’t be sure if he would tell whoever was threatening her to ‘stick it where the sun don’t shine’ or just give them whatever they wanted.

Stiles seems to be expecting something more than Derek’s simple nod, because his shoulders are tense and he’s still staring out into the middle distance, very pointedly not looking at Derek. It makes him feel like an asshole, but doesn’t stop the “So, why _are_ you here?” from leaving his lips.

“I just needed to get out of there.” Bean makes a low noise at Stiles’ tone, dropping his head into the man’s lap with a pair of sad eyes that immediately get him head scratches. “I thought that being away at college would help, but it seemed like I couldn’t even go a day without Sc- _something_ happening at home. It got so bad that I dropped out and just went backpacking for a few weeks at a time.”

Derek frowns at the explanation, both that he can tell that Stiles isn’t telling him everything, and the fact that the things Stiles _is_ saying seem to be only partial truths. It might have made him defensive before, angry that he wasn’t being trusted, now it just makes him sad that it seems like Stiles still hasn’t found the peace that Derek has.

(It also explains why he hasn’t heard about any teachers for a while; can’t bitch about them if you don’t have any...)

Stiles seems embarrassed by what he just said, focused even more on Bean and his shoulders going tense the longer Derek goes without saying anything. The sour scent of Stiles’ anxiety is reaching an almost unbearable degree when-

“You could stay here, if you like.”

The words are out before he can give them much thought, before he can think through all the ways that Stiles being here is going to topple the carefully structured house of cards his life is right now, but then Stiles’ shoulders go loose and low as he grins over at Derek and Derek can’t bring himself to voice his recantation of his offer.

“Are you sure about that, big guy? My roommate in college said rooming with me must be some new level of Hell and I’ve been told by numerous sources that I’m _murder_ on the nerves.”

Derek rolls his eyes, declining to mention the sweet suffusion of happiness that filled Stiles’ scent when he made his offer. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. I dealt with you for over two years, living with you for a few days won’t be any harder.”

Stiles wiggles his eyebrows at Derek’s words, a sly grin on his face as he asks again, “Are you _sure_ about that?”

Huffing out a fond breath at the peek of the boy he left behind, Derek places his hand over Stiles’ face and gently pushes the man away. “I could always knock you out if you annoy me too much. Or leave you in the woods for a little while, see if _that_ calms you down.”

“Wow, and not a single threat of maiming or ripping my throat out. I’m impressed!” Stiles even goes as far as to pretend to wipe a tear away, after shoving Derek’s hand off his face, making Derek consider retracting his offer for a moment.

But only a moment.

“There are a few rooms on the second floor, go ahead and pick one while I take Bean out for a bit and then I’ll make us some breakfast.”

“Alright. See you in a few.”

Hitching his pack back onto his shoulder, Stiles bounds up the stairs without a backwards glance. It makes Derek chuckle a little bit, re-leashing Bean and taking a quick run around the house instead of their longer trek along the trails.

He’s glad that Stiles didn’t have an issue picking his own room; if it had been left up to him, he wasn’t sure if he would have kept Stiles close to his room – easier to get to, to _protect_ – or further away, so that Stiles didn’t feel pressured or trapped by his presence.

Derek wonders when it was that he began to think so highly of Stiles’ opinion of him, as well as if Stiles thought that he was the monster that everyone made him out to be... It might have been when the boy held him up in a pool for hours on end, even back when they were on opposite sides, and only let him go in a desperate attempt to get help for them.

Or it might have been when Stiles came back for him. In the pool, the elevator, even back when he and Scott had him arrested for Laura’s murder, Stiles was there. There trying to find a way to keep his friend safe, figure out this new world that they had been thrust into...

Derek was just a little shocked when he realized that he became one of the people that Stiles cared for, that he somehow earned that single minded devotion that Stiles so rarely gave out.

Bean makes a soft woofing sound beside him, almost as if he can hear Derek’s thoughts, and butts his head against Derek’s thigh. Pausing for a moment to give Bean a pat, Derek turns them back towards his house and the man inside.


	4. A Night Of Terrors

Having Stiles in his house is… odd.

Not in a bad way, of course. Having Stiles around had never really been a _bad_ thing, even when Stiles was talking about everything under the sun just to see if he could get a rise out of him. It was more of a ‘relearning to be observant’ way.

An ‘I’ve-been-alone-so-long-and-am-not-used-to-other-people-in-my-space’ way.

An ‘it-takes-more-than-a-few-days-to-realize-Stiles-isn’t-sleeping’ kind of way. 

At first, Derek had not paid it any mind; he figured that it was just Stiles getting used to being in a new place, being around _him_ -

(He had caught the younger man looking at him from time to time; the looks ranged from uncertainty to a startled fear, making something heavy and painful sink in his stomach.)

-but then it became apparent that was _not_ the case.

Bean slumps through the house, little grumbling noises – Derek is pretty sure he’s only making those because he wants to, considering they have been doing this for a while now – cutting off as soon as he enters the living room. There is a short bark and a muffled ‘oomph!’ follows that draws Derek’s attention from his morning routine.

Heading into the living room, Derek sees Stiles currently fighting off a very enthusiastic Bean, his progress hindered by the laptop being held over his head. He immediately freezes when he sees Derek standing in the entryway that divides the living room and kitchen, eyes wide and startled like he forgot Derek was even in the house.

“Uhhhhh… I can explain?”

Derek leans against the doorway, waiting for a moment before crossing his arms across his chest. He wants Stiles to see that he’s interested, but not annoyed or threatening. A short nod follows the movement as Derek mutters a quiet, “Go ahead.”

“Do you think you could call off your slobber machine?”

Bean whines at that, thumping his head down on Stiles’ chest, his begging eyes no doubt out in full force as his tail hits in a steady _whump-whump-whump_ pattern against the back of the couch. Derek can’t help but laugh at the conflicted look on Stiles’ face as he meets Bean’s gaze.

“I dunno. He looks pretty comfortable to me… and the couch _is_ his favorite napping spot.”

This time it’s Stiles that lets out a whine, a drawn out “ _Deeerrrreeek_!” as he wiggles under Bean’s weight. Bean apparently thinks that this means it’s playtime again, as he renews his doggy-kisses, much to Stiles’ sputtering denials.

Derek takes that time to snap a quick photo with his phone, a small smile tugging at his lips as he saves it. The smile drops when he looks up again to see Stiles looking at him with one of those _expressions_ again, making his “Bean, heel.” come out a bit sharper than intended.

Bean huffs once, but hops down and wanders over to Derek, plopping down beside him and leaning heavily against his legs. It only takes a slight shifting to brace himself against the puppy’s weight, Derek’s eyes never leaving Stiles’ the entire time.

“You were going to explain why you were down here instead of in your room?”

Stiles just… folds in on himself at that, and Derek can’t help the whine that slips past his lips at the action, hurt that Stiles feels like he has to hide here, that he can’t be truthful with him. Derek bites down on the sound almost as soon as he makes it, but Stiles still gives him a look that says he heard the noise and Derek braces himself for the taunts that are sure to come.

Strangely enough, and yet _another_ sign that the Stiles that is sitting here has changed from the Stiles that Derek left back in Beacon Hills, there is nothing more than a deep breath and a quiet sigh before, “I’ve… I’ve been having trouble sleeping lately.”

Derek tightens the grip he has on his arms, worried that the next thing that he might do is walk right over to Stiles and just _hold him_ if he does not keep himself in check. Bean, on the other hand, holds no worries and immediately runs back to the couch to climb back onto Stiles’ lap, little puppy whimpers following him the entire way.

It takes a few swallows, Stiles rubbing his hands up and down Bean’s sides as he mutters about what a good boy he is, before Derek can ask, “Were you… _uncomfortable_ with where you sleeping? Do you need to book a room-?”

“ ** _No_**!” Bean gives a startled yelp and scrambles to the ground even as Stiles jumps to his feet. Derek cannot help the way his body shifts and the tenseness that fills his frame at the sudden movement, but he almost immediately relaxes afterward. It takes a few more moments before Stiles relaxes from his own reflexive flinch, but then he quietly states, “I think that being here is the only reason I can sleep the little that I do.”

The want to hold him grows, but Derek keeps his hands to himself and only leans closer, voice lowering in the hopes that Stiles feels more comfortable talking about this if Derek stays calm and nonthreatening. “Is there- Can I do anything to help you sleep better? Do you need to walk the borders of the property? Do you need me to tell you about the precautions I have set up?”

Stiles blinks at that, mouth gaping a bit before he says, “ _You_ have precautions set up? **_Here_**?”

‘Here’ comes complete with flailing arms that seem to encompass Derek’s living room, home, and all of Slate. It makes him chuckle, biting back the noise when Stiles gives him an offended look for it.

“Yes, I have precautions built in. I know that even the most quiet of places has its dangers and hidden secrets.” Derek tugs at Stiles’ arm, a gentle pressure to lead him in the right direction. “Come on. Maybe this can give you a bit of peace of mind.”

Stiles makes a face at that, but still follows where Derek leads with minimal prodding. It makes something warm wrap around Derek’s chest to see the way that Stiles so easily trusts where Derek says to go.

To see Stiles so easily follow _him_.

Mentally giving his thoughts a little shake, before he gets too wrapped up in his head to be of _any_ use, Derek gives Stiles a tour of the boundaries of his home. He takes care to show him the various markings that show a ‘wolf has claimed this territory and how to tell the difference between this and a ‘normal’ wolf’s markings. He also directs Stiles towards a few runes that a passing witch had made for him, a trade that saw him bringing her deer meat and bones for her travels.

Stiles brushes his fingers against certain runes as he mutters his own findings on magic, backing up the witch’s claims on what they did. He also gets slower and slower the further they walk, his exhaustion finally catching up with him. As they make it back to the house, Derek is practically carrying the younger man up the steps and he cannot fight the urge to tighten his hold a bit, trying to take a discreet scent as he shifts his grip. He is glad to find that there is only a dim lingering sensation of vigilance clinging to Stiles.

“Wha’ you sniffin’ me for, Sourwolf?”

Ignoring the tug at his chest the old nickname gives him, Derek rumbles out, “Nothing. I'm going to put you to bed.”

Pausing at the landing, Derek looks down the hall to the bedroom Stiles claimed a few days ago. It might be the lighting, the conversation they just had, or the way that Stiles is leaning so trustingly against him, but it looks too far and _dark_ for him to bring Stiles to.

“Stiles?”

“Hm?” It takes a moment, but then Stiles is looking up from where he is leaning on Derek’s shoulder, large amber eyes blinking slowly before his jaw cracks on a rather impressive yawn.

“Would… would you feel comfortable sleeping in my room for now?” Stiles’ widening eyes have Derek rambling in a way that he thought would be more Stiles’ thing than his own. “I just think that you might be more comfortable there, as it has a better bed than the guest rooms. Not to mention that anything supernatural would be less likely to attack there, knowing how established I am in town-”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.” Stiles, despite looking more alert than he was a minute ago, still smiles softly and slowly at Derek, making him glad the younger man does not have his hearing. “To go into town and ask around for you, only to have nearly everyone have something to say.”

“People had things to say before.” 

Stiles’ gaze, if it was even possible, goes _softer_. “ ** _Good_ ** things to say. Little stories about how you helped them or that they saw you doing mundane shit… I like to think you might have been like that… well, _before_.”

The emphasis tells Derek that Stiles does not mean just before everything that happened the past few years. He has a feeling Stiles is talking about before Peter Bit Scott, before the Hunters, before Kate-

Just… **_Before_**.

“Yeah…” Derek hums, watching as Stiles watches him, no doubt seeing if there was some line here he was not allowed to cross. Stiles did not need to worry, though; Derek had learned a long time ago that the boundaries he set up for others were not quite in the same place for Stiles.

The moment grows to be too much for Derek after a while, so he clears his throat, adjusts his grip, and asks, “So. The room?”

Stiles sighs out slowly before leaning back onto Derek’s shoulder, doing his own not so subtle scenting as he rubs his face against Derek’s chest. “Yeah, Socialwolf. Lead me to your den. I’m sure I’m not the first person you’ve let crash there.”

Derek cannot help but frown at Stiles’ words, but he decides to question him later as he maneuvers them to his room and opens the door. Flicking on the light, partially to keep Stiles from complaining, Derek moves to the bed and sets Stiles on it.

“Wait here a sec, I’ll get you something to sleep in.”

He waits until he gets a muttered acknowledgement before moving over to the dresser, immediately digging into the drawers to keep from pressing at the spot on his chest that Stiles nuzzled against. It also helps keep him grounded and not worry about the fact that – despite Stiles’ claim earlier – this is the first time that _anyone_ has been in this room.

Other than Bean, of course. But that doesn’t really count.

Shaking his head, Derek pulls out some worn sweatpants and a loose T-shirt before turning back to the bed. He almost drops them when he sees Stiles burrowing his face into one of the pillows at the top, breathing in deeply and sighing out the rest of the stress holding his body taut.

This… this might have been a bad idea.

He must have made some sort of noise, because Stiles is pulling his face away from the sheets, red faced and avoiding Derek’s eyes with a muttered, “Sorry.” as he curls up on the far side of the bed.

Derek knows the importance of scent; he slept with an old shirt of Laura’s until it no longer carried her warmth and _still_ has his father’s old jacket. The fire swallowed everything of his mother’s, but sometimes there will be certain perfumes or foods that remind him of her, and he needs to take a quick break because he can't face anyone.

Needless to say, Derek is not going to belittle Stiles’ need to take comfort from a familiar smell. 

(Even if there is a part of him that revels in the fact that it is _his_ scent, clean and uncluttered, that Stiles is drawn to.)

His silence is starting to make Stiles regain all of the tension that had started to leave his frame, though, and that will _not_ stand. So, he simply shrugs and asks, “For what?” as he lays the clothes on the bed beside Stiles.

It gets Stiles to look up and Derek takes that moment to tell him, “I’m going to take Bean for his morning run. I’ll stay near the house the entire time, so don’t worry about me not hearing you if you need anything.”

Stiles opens his mouth, closes it with a nod and grabs the clothes, pulling them close and staring Derek down.

It takes longer than it should to realize that Stiles is waiting for him to leave so that he can change. When it finally hits him, Derek can only nod awkwardly, hating that he turned the lights on, as he is sure that Stiles can see how red his face has become. It makes him feel even _more_ embarrassed, nearly tripping over his own feet as he makes it out of the room and back down the stairs.

Bean is waiting for him at the bottom, tail wagging like a helicopter blade as soon as he sees Derek. It had surprised him a bit that Bean had not tried to follow them up, but Derek figures he was just distracted by an early breakfast and had other things to focus on.

With a sharp whistle, Derek gets Bean leashed up and ready to go in record time. He still hesitates in the doorway before heading out, hearing almost unerringly centering in on where Stiles is in the house. While his heartbeat is not as slow or steady as it would be in sleep, it is a decent rhythm for rest and that is all Derek can ask for right now.

Bean gives an impatient tug on the leash, not to be denied now that the door is opened, and he can _see_ the outdoors. Derek grins as he takes the hint, locking the door behind him and heading towards the tree line. 

Bean seems a little confused by this shift in their schedule, tugging in the direction of town a few times, but falls in line after a few laps. He even seems to enjoy it when he spots a squirrel at the base of one of the trees, barking excitedly at the very end of his leash. The squirrel apparently knows that Derek isn't going to let Bean go running off, because it just continues to clean its fur as Bean’s barks go higher and higher.

Deciding that was enough, Derek clicks at Bean again as he gives a light tug at the leash. It takes another few tugs, but Bean eventually gets the hint and starts to head home. Derek allows the pup to lead the way, his thoughts wandering to the new occupant in his house. 

Stiles seems to have been through a lot since Derek left Beacon Hills, something that makes a heavy weight settle in his stomach. He had thought that by leaving, by taking away the lure of one of the ‘rare Hale breed’, that some of the unknowns heading towards Beacon Hills would just pass through. 

Apparently, that had not been the case.

They have just made it to the house, Derek thinking about how he is going to get Stiles to open up about what happened since he left, when he hears the first whimper.

It is like a shot of adrenaline to his system and Derek is moving before he can think it through, Bean letting out a bark behind him as his toenails click against the woodwork. Derek is bounding up the stairs at the next whimper, Bean yapping behind him as he gets stuck at the bottom.

His bedroom door almost does not make it as Derek barrels through it, eyes zeroing on Stiles’ thrashing form on the bed. Grateful that nothing had happened right after he promised Stiles he would be safe, Derek’s heart still lurches at the pain and fear he can smell on Stiles’ sleeping form.

“Stiles.” Quickly moving to the younger man’s side, Derek reaches out to shake him, hands gentle despite the worry clogging at his throat when his ministrations only cause Stiles to become even _more_ upset. “Stiles, it’s okay. It’s just a dream…”

His words cause Stiles to let out an honest to God _howl_ , Bean echoing it downstairs and increasing his efforts to get up the steps. “ ** _NO_**! No, no, _no, no_ , **_please_ **-”

“Stiles!” Derek gives up all pretense at this point, gathering up the younger man and rocking him, hands tightening and soothing in turns, heart in his throat as he tries to remember what to do. “Come on, Stiles. It’s just a nightmare. You are alright, I’m here, you’re _safe_. Wake up, please. _Wake up_!”

His words don’t seem to be having any effect, other than upsetting both Stiles and Bean, who has made it into the room and is howling up a storm, trying to hop up onto the bed. It makes a desperate, hopeless idea float across his mind; he’s not an Alpha, and Stiles never was an _official_ part of his Pack, but-

Closing his eyes, Derek looks for that thread that he always felt connected him to Stiles. He’s pretty sure that only _he_ felt it, that it was more a figment of his lonely imagination (much like the voice in his head that sounded like Stiles from time to time), but it feels solid enough for this.

Opening his eyes again, feeling his wolf sight burn, Derek pushes every bit of panic, worry, concern and- and everything _else_ he’s feeling into his voice as he downright **commands** , “Stiles. You are dreaming. **_Wake up_**.”

Stiles wakes up with a gasp.

He also wakes up swinging, nearly clocking Derek in the jaw as he fights the grip the older man has on him. It takes a few moments, Stiles is surprisingly hard to pin down, but Derek eventually has Stiles’ hands trapped against his chest as Derek rumbles soothingly behind him.

“It’s alright, Stiles. You’re alright, you’re safe…”

“No, no. no…” The mumbling cadence of Stiles’ voice says he is not fully awake yet, despite his rather _violent_ initial movements. “No, you can’t be here. **_You’re not supposed to be here_** …”

“Stiles, it’s okay. You’re not- you’re not in Beacon Hills anymore.” Saying his old hometown’s name is harder than he thought, but Derek pulls through it, given how Stiles still seems stuck in some half-asleep state. “You’re in Slate. You are at my house. You’re _okay_.”

A few more reassurances, as well as a slight loosening of his hands so that he’s more holding Stiles than restraining him, and Derek can feel Stiles slowly slump against him as the copper scent of embarrassment fills the air. Derek quiets his words but does not quite release his hold just yet as Bean finally makes it up onto the bed. The pup immediately drops into the small space in between Derek and Stiles, half on top of Stiles’ lap, and whines lowly.

Taking advantage of the dog’s presence, Stiles begins petting him and muttering soothing noises at the distressed whines he gets in return. It shifts Derek’s hands so that they are more resting on Stiles’ elbows than his wrists, but he still does not move, the adrenaline slowly leaving his body as he listens to Stiles’ steadying heartbeat.

Stiles shudders, taking a deep breath, and Derek just _knows_ that he’s going to try to brush it off, try to turn it into some sort of joke. It makes him speak before he can give it any thought.

“I still have dreams about the fire.”

There is an immediate tension in Stiles’ frame at those words, Bean letting out another howl-whine, Derek reaching out and rubbing one hand down the puppy’s back, his other hand unconsciously mimicking the action along Stiles’ arm.

“It wasn’t just… I would wake up _screaming_ sometimes, weeping and shouting. Laura-” Stiles makes a sound not unlike Bean’s whimper, Derek squeezing his wrist in comfort. “Laura never knew what to do when they happened, usually just held me until the trembling stopped.”

“You didn’t-?” Derek is shaking his head before Stiles’ question is finished, a lump in his throat growing as he thinks back to those cold months in New York, where he thought that his own guilt was going to finish what the fire did not. 

‘I couldn’t- I couldn’t risk losing what I thought was the last of my family. Even though there were days that I thought that was what I deserved, what I _should_ do;” Derek focuses more on Bean’s wuffling appreciation for all the petting, despite the fact that he can see Stiles’ gaze boring a hole in the side of his head out of the corner of his eye, “confess my part in our family’s murder and be punished for it.”

“Derek, you were just a kid-”

“I was old enough to understand that we had to stay a secret, that there were _reasons_ we had so many precautions in place.” Derek scoffs and shakes his head, Bean trying to snuggle even closer to his upset owner. “Old enough to know not to spill those secrets to the first person that showed me any kind of attention.”

“Kate manipulated you.” Stiles’ voice is as steady as the hand he places on Derek’s wrist, making the older man look at him in shock. Stiles’ eyes are filled with a sharp determination, the sunlight catching them just enough to make them look like they’re a shimmering beta gold.

It makes Derek want to reflect his own wolf eyes back at him, something that he just barely holds back because he knows that Stiles will see it as an act of aggravation instead of the respected acknowledgement it is.

Thankfully, Stiles is still talking and doesn’t notice Derek’s temporary lapse in attention.

“…an absolute _psychopath_ and it wasn’t your fault that she caught you at what was probably a really vulnerable part of your life and preyed on your insecurities to make you trust her.” 

“How… how do you know about that?”

Stiles opens his mouth, an offended look overtaking his features, before it closes as his face drops every bit of color it holds. Derek is just about to pick him up and _run_ towards the hospital in town when Stiles places both hands over his face and whispers, “Shit. That’s right, _you_ never told me…” 

“Stiles?”

The younger man shakes his head, hands still covering his face like a child that thinks they’re hidden because they can’t see anyone else. Bean woofs and takes the opportunity to lick Stiles’ fingers, causing him to jerk away and accidentally meet Derek’s gaze.

“Stiles.”

“ ** _Fuck_**.” Stiles completely pulls himself from Derek’s grasp, shifting so that he’s almost teetering on the very edge of the bed. Derek wants to pull him back in, hold him close and reassure him that everything will be alright, but the realization that Stiles _knows_ about Kate has him floundering.

“Allis- Ally mentioned something to me about what… what Kate was saying about you when she had you locked up. What- what she said when she thought that nobody was there to hear her. Scott mentioned what you said about the Argents being the ones to start the fire, but I couldn’t understand how they got so close without anyone noticing. Thought it was an inside job, suspected Peter with his whole ‘power is everything’ schtick, but then Ally mentioned that and…”

“… _while a homicidal maniac, the_ **_second_ ** _one you’ve dated, by the way_ …”

The memory comes back in fits and starts; the dark hospital, the terror of Cora being hurt and Derek too far away to help her, Stiles hissing that in his face when he had told him to be quiet-

(because he couldn’t lose someone _else_ he cared about, someone that kept coming back for him over and over, even though Derek had no idea **_why_** …)

-and Derek is suddenly back in the bed with Stiles, the younger man twisted so that a hand is on Derek’s shoulder, shaking him slightly, and a look on Stiles’ face like he had been calling for Derek’s attention more than once.

Derek breathes, because that is all he can do now. Breathe and try to get back on some sort of even ground. Stiles is looking at him like he’s only seconds from flying apart and that isn’t **_right_** ; _Stiles_ is the one that had been having the nightmare, _Stiles_ had been the one that needed the comforting. It should be _Derek_ taking care of _Stiles_ , not the other way around!

Yet, because he fails at this as he fails at all things, Derek can only ask, “What do you mean by ‘vulnerable time’?”

Because Stiles can’t _possibly_ know about that. The only person still alive that knows is-

Stiles winces and Derek knows what he’s going to say before he even starts. “It was… it was when you went missing, after- after Boyd. I was with Cora and Peter, trying not to panic, which was a trial and a half with your Uncle being… well, **_Peter_**. Cora mentioned that you had changed since the last time she saw you and I kinda wanted to know more about that guy and what he was like. Then Peter told us about Paige.”

Stiles’ brows furrow before he shakes his head, rubbing a hand over his face before he clarifies, “He told us _his version_ of what happened with Paige and I figured if even _a little bit_ of that was true-”

“It was true.” Derek focuses on Bean, who is looking between the two of them and making little wuffling noises, like he isn’t sure which of them he should cuddle. Poor puppy. Reaching out, Derek scoops up the dog and presses him against his chest, burying his face in the pup’s fur in a mimic of Stiles’ earlier attempt to hide.

“I loved her, and I killed her,”

“Derek…” The bed shifts, like Stiles is moving even closer to him, but why would he? Derek just told him he killed the first person he ever loved. He’s probably moving away, going to say something along the lines of not feeling safe, needing to leave...

“Did you ask the Alpha to Bite her?”

Derek exhales sharply, remembering his Uncle’s words about there being no future for them without the Bite, but still _so sure_ that Paige deserved a chance to know what she was getting into, what would happen if she changed. The Bite has been, and always will be, a gift in his eyes.

He shakes his head.

“ ** _Son of a bitch_**. I _knew_ that asshole was lying.” Stiles sighs heavily, and then… then there are arms around Derek’s shoulders. Arms that are not pulling him towards a body that only sees him for their own pleasure, or to twist him into an incoming blow or connected to hands that wrench his head back to offer the Bite, _his mother’s gift_ , into the bloodstream of a man that would only condemn him for it.

He doesn’t realize that he’s crying until Stiles reaches up and cups his face, fingers dragging under his eyes to catch the last of his tears as the younger man softly whispers, “It’s okay. You’re going to be alright. I’m here.”

Derek lets out a watery chuckle, “I thought _I_ was the one that was supposed to be taking care of _you_.”

“We take care of **_each other_** , Sourwolf. Just like always.”

“ _We’ll take care of each other, Der-bear. Now and forever_.”

Laura’s voice echoed in Derek’s mind, not overpowering Stiles’ words, but rather harmonizing with them and making Derek feel like he can take the first deep breath since Laura left him with a hug and a promise everything would be alright. 

“I’m so…” Derek leans just the barest amount towards Stiles, just enough so that his forehead rests on Stiles’ shoulder, but not enough for him to dislodge Stiles’ hands. “…tired.”

“Well, you do have an _awfully_ nice bed right here, big guy.” Stiles hums, fingers seeming to find all the tense spots in Derek’s frame, soothing away the last of the adrenaline coursing through his system after all these revelations. “Nice and soft, almost like sinking into a cloud. 10/10, would nap on again.”

“Will you?”

“Will I what, big guy?” Stiles has slowly laid Derek down on the bed, surprising the older man with the strength in his lithe frame. Derek hadn't been dropped or slid an inch, making him almost ashamed with the rush of feelings Stiles' care gave him.

But not too ashamed to ask, "Will you stay?"

Stiles’ face practically _blooms_ red; a heady scent of cinnamon-sugar lust mixed with a sharp lemon anxiety overlaying his usual air-before-a-storm scent. Derek sighs out as Stiles immediately begins to babble in the way that says he’s uncomfortable and trying not to show it.

It’s not what Derek wants; he wants to keep this piece of calm, where some of the weight that has been pressing on his shoulders… isn’t gone but seems _less_ somehow. Like telling Stiles – or rather, just confirming what he already knew – has shifted the weight.

So, Derek tugs on the hand he still has in his grip, a surprisingly effective way of shutting Stiles up, and says very simply. “Just sleep, Stiles. I want… I would like for us both just to lie here, on my ‘nice and soft’ bed, and sleep. Maybe we can scare off each other’s nightmares.” 

Stiles stares at him for a long time, long enough for Derek to rethink asking Stiles to stay, before the man in question blows out a heavy breath and says, “Okay.” like he’s afraid the word itself will shatter. 

He also lays himself ever-so-gingerly on the opposite side of the bed to Derek. Whether uncomfortable with the arrangements or just because he’s waiting for Derek to change his mind, Derek can’t say; Stiles’ heart is going all over the place and it’s a bit hard to tell how he’s feeling by scent, considering that’s a mishmash of so many things it’s like Derek stuck his nose in a perfumery.

“You don’t _have_ to stay-“

“No.” Stiles squeezes Derek’s hand, still clasped in his own and laid in the bed between them like some invisible line that neither of them was quite willing to cross yet. “No, it’s just… We’ve never done anything like this before, which kinda makes it…”

“More?” Stiles blinks at Derek, his eyes once more capturing that beta gold shimmer from the light as he nods. This time, Derek can’t help the urge to show his own wolf eyes and Stiles continues to defy his expectations by letting out an intrigued hum.

“Yeah, more is a good word for it.”

“Is it a good more? Or too much?” Bean, who has been surprisingly quiet up to this point, has apparently decided that, since both of them were lying down, their legs were the perfect places to make his bed. A wheezy snore punctuates his question and Stiles looks down at the puppy with a smile before meeting Derek’s gaze again.

 **_“Definitely_ ** a good more.”


	5. A Warning And A Revelation

Derek wakes up later to the evening sun low in the sky and immediately aware of two things.

The first one is that Bean has moved from the bed, the jingling of tags as he circles over to Derek’s side no doubt what woke him in the first place.

The second is that Stiles has moved even closer to Derek in his sleep, so that every exhale floats over the collar of Derek’s shirt, their hands now pressed against both of their chests and one of Stiles’ feet draped across Derek’s ankle.

It makes Derek almost too afraid to move, not wanting to wake Stiles now that he seems to be getting some much-needed sleep. He also wants to take a few moments to take in the sight of Stiles completely at ease; the furrow in his brow and lines on his face seem smoother and less noticeable, mouth ajar as he breathes in and out, a slight whistle on each inhale that Derek is happy to hear has nothing to do with Stiles’ lungs.

Bean starts making little noises that mean he’s hungry and/or that he wants to be walked. Derek hushes the puppy when he sees Stiles shifting in his sleep, heartbeat speeding up like he’s about to wake. He takes that moment to slip off the mattress, gently untangling their hands as well, before herding Bean out of the room and away from the bed.

Following a happily bouncing Bean down the stairs, Derek thinks over what he has in his fridge and what he could make for Stiles when the younger man wakes up fully. He’s even a little hesitant to take Bean very far away from the house, letting the puppy out to the backyard, content that the new fence around the back will keep Bean contained.

After he makes sure that Bean is happy with his toys and open space, Derek moves back to the kitchen. Digging through the cupboards and fridge, Derek decides that he’ll start with something light and see how Stiles is feeling afterwards.

A plan made, Derek pulls out some eggs and bread, thinking that a few scrambled eggs and toast would be a decent breakfast to wake up to. At least until he can find out if Stiles likes his eggs sunny side up or scrambled, or even not at all.

After a few minutes of steady cooking, Stiles pads into the kitchen, hair still mussed up from sleep, Derek’s shirt slipping over one shoulder, and the heel of a hand rubbing at an eye. He spots Derek after a wide yawn, a slight blush on his face as he offers the other man a shy smile, nose twitching as the scent of breakfast makes it to him.

Derek swallows, focusing on setting the table to keep from giving into the impulse of walking over to Stiles and kissing him, as both a hello and - as his father always said when he did the same to Derek’s mother - a great way to start the day.

Derek looks over at Stiles, cup held out, and asks, “I usually take Bean out for a run around this time. We have company, so he’s running off his energy in the backyard. I... I was planning on heading into town later on, do you want to come with us?”

Stiles takes the cup and takes a deep gulp before sighing, eyes still on the table and tone low as he answers. “I’m not... I’m not the best with people right now. I think it might be better if I stay behind. You can go if you want, I’ll take a look around the rest of the house while you’re out, see if I can dig up any secrets while you’re gone.”

The last bit comes with a wink and a grin, but Derek frowns instead. “I can wait until you’re feeling-”

“I’m not going to be feeling up to people for a _while_ , Sourwolf.” There’s a sharpness to Stiles’ voice and his shoulders are starting to hunch in, making Derek wish that he had just agreed and asked if Stiles wanted anything from town. “I haven’t had the best of luck with strangers, and I’m not gonna screw up what you have here. I'll be fine by myself. I'm sure you have some shopping to do.”

Derek still wants to argue, wants to talk about all the times that Stiles has gone out to parties, the various people that he no doubt met and made friends with at college, but he also knows that there are things about Stiles’ life that he missed out on. The man sitting in front of him is _vastly_ different from the boy he left behind in Beacon Hills, so much so that Derek feels guilty for not taking Stiles with him when the last he saw of that town was through his back window.

Yet, that is an almost impossible dream; there are far too many things that are tethering Stiles to Beacon Hills - his father and his loyalty to Scott only two of a rather _long_ list - so Derek simply nods and pushes away from the table, no longer hungry for the food on his plate.

“You still have my number, right?” Derek waits for Stiles’ nod, swallowing down his disappointment when Stiles doesn’t raise his gaze. “I’m going to be going to a few stores, feel free to let me know if you need anything... and don’t worry about paying me back.”

All he gets in response is a huff, so Derek is sure that they’re going to be revisiting that conversation later. He makes it out the back porch and whistles for Bean, getting a happy bark as an answer when the puppy bounds across the grounds to him. Clipping the leash he picked up from its hook on the door frame to the dog’s collar, Derek leads Bean around the house and towards town, listening to Stiles’ heartbeat until he’s too far away to hear.

* * *

Olga is happy to see him and Bean, as always; she gives Derek a smile while a lot of hugs and kisses go to Bean. The puppy revels in the attention, practically knocking Olga over in his eagerness to return her affection. It takes a few minutes, but both woman and pup separate with similar sad faces.

“You know, if Bean ever decided to run away from home, I wouldn’t have to look far to find him again.” Derek grins at the blush that lights up Olga’s cheeks, happy that he knows how to talk to one person, at least.

“Oh, hush. He’s only so happy to see me because he knows that I spoil him. You would get the same reaction if you gave him a couple of treats a day!”

At the word ‘treat’ Bean immediately starts what Derek calls his ‘Technically Sitting’ move; his little butt starts leaving the ground, only to sink back down a few inches when one of them looks at him, but then he lifts up again, tail wagging all the while. It never fails to make Olga giggle and Derek smile, but with his face turned away from the dog, as he doesn’t want Bean to think he can get away with that at home.

Olga is just turning around to get said treats when Derek blurts out, “I have a friend up at the house.”

This causes Olga to freeze, almost immediately spinning on her heel to face Derek again. Instead of the pleased expression he thought that she would wear, there is a furrow in her brow and her scent has a slight burnt tinge of fear in it that immediately has Derek on guard.

“Olga-”

“This wouldn’t happen to be the guy that _everyone_ is talking about, is it? Everyone is saying... saying that he looks like trouble, like he might be running from something.” Olga raises a hand, cutting off what Derek was about to say as the burnt smell gets stronger, making Derek’s stomach twist and Bean let out a low whine. “And, despite how they reacted to you, _everyone_ that has walked through my door said they got a bad feeling about this guy. **_Everyone_**.”

Derek frowns at that, not surprised that some people would have had a bad reaction to Stiles - Mr. Olgen seemed to _look_ for things that pissed him off, he kinda reminded Derek of an older Adrian Harris - but _all_ of them? That was a bit much, but it explained the fear-scent that Olga was giving off.

“Olga. you don’t need to worry. Stiles isn’t going to-”

“ _I’m not worried about myself_!”

Derek jerks back at Olga’s tone, an instinctual snarl quickly bit back and hidden under Bean’s yelp of surprise. Olga looks a little embarrassed by her words, but she doesn’t back down. As a matter of fact, she just crosses her arms in front of her chest and raises her chin as if daring Derek to question what she’s about to say. Derek is reminded suddenly, painfully, and gut wrenchingly of Laura right as she was about to tear him a new one.

Olga doesn’t realize that she’s sending Derek down a dark path, as she unknowingly twists the knife by looking at him with the same expression that is a mixture of ‘you- _will_ -do-as-I-say’ and a healthy dose of **_fear_**.

“I’m well aware that you’re a pretty buff looking dude. And you could probably bench press me _while I’m holding Bean_ , but just... just _please_ be careful.”

Derek nods slowly, unsure what to do here to make Olga feel better about Stiles or to make her ashy fear leave her scent. It’s uncomfortable to smell it so ingrained in her normal flour-and-sugar aroma, reminding Derek of how the kitchen smelled at his old home, after it went up in smoke.

“I- I need to get some things for the house. I want to make sure that I have enough food for the next couple of days.” Olga gives a sharp nod at that, her scared-determined expression not changing a whit and Derek resigns himself to a short visit today. “I’m still going to be coming by in the morning, but do you think you could spare a few pastries for me now?”

There are a few tense moments where Derek thinks that Olga won’t move, that this might be the thing that puts a fracture in their relationship, but then Olga gives a growl worthy of any ‘wolf and makes her way over to the counter. A jerk of her head tells Derek to follow her, but he decides that it might be better not to say anything right now.

After the angriest choosing and wrapping of pastries that Derek has ever seen, Olga hands off his desserts without any of her usual cheer. He thinks that might be the reason he jumps slightly when she suddenly grabs his wrist and outright pleads, “Derek. You might not know it, but you are one of my very _best_ friends. I trust your judgement, but all the whispering about this guy is freaking me out. Please, _please_ be careful!”

Derek is disconcertingly reminded of when Laura told him that she was headed back to Beacon Hills; Olga’s eyes hold the same kind of desperation that his did then, and he’s pretty sure that his own scent was as encased with fear and distress at the time as Olga’s is. It makes him do something that he can tell Olga has always wanted, but held back from because of him.

He hugs her.

It takes a moment for her to realize what’s happening, but as soon as she does, she grips him back almost as hard as a ‘wolf would. Her “This isn’t making me feel any better.” is almost inaudible for how firmly her face is pressed against his chest, but she makes no move to pull away.

Rubbing a soothing hand down her back, Derek leans his cheek against the top of her head and promises, “It’s... been a while since I had anyone care for me the way that you do. I don’t- I don’t really know what to say to make you understand that I’ll be fine. I have ways of taking care of myself and I don’t think- I **_know_ ** Stiles isn’t here to hurt me.”

With a heavy sigh, Olga finally moves away, a tentative smile on her face despite her watery eyes as she states, “Well, now I have a name to track down if something _does_ happen to you!”

Knowing that mentioning she didn’t have a last name to go off of would just lead to getting him chewed out for a good five minutes, Derek just rolls his eyes at Olga’s laughter as he sighs theatrically.

“Alright, alright. Can I go now?”

His words earn him a huff and a shoulder smack, but Olga both looks a little more at ease and her flour-and-sugar scent only has a slight burnt undertone to it. The tension that eases from his shoulders realizing that isn’t as much of a surprise as it would’ve been upon first meeting Olga, but Derek can acknowledge that the woman has become important to him.

“Yeah. Get out of here and warn that ‘friend’ of yours that if I don’t see you in a couple of days, I’m coming up to that house of yours and beating his head in with a bat!”

Derek can’t help the grin that takes over his face at that, nor the comment of “Stiles is going to love you when you two meet.” before leaving the Beanery, Olga’s indignant “I don’t want a possible escaped convict to love me!” following after his retreating back.

Bean lets out a bark as they make their way down the street, Derek absentmindedly reaching down to rub a hand over the pup’s head. “Well, at least we know that Olga has our back in case anything _does_ happen, right?”

All Bean does in response is pant at him, while Derek hopes that nothing ever comes from Olga’s promise, more worried about possible Hunters showing up than anything Stiles can throw at him.

Sighing heavily, Derek really hopes that the rest of the groceries don’t involve any more heart to hearts today. Not that he isn’t appreciative, but more that it makes him worry more about what had happened to Stiles ever since he left that makes everyone so uneasy around him, when the energetic boy used to draw everyone in and made them want to protect him.

Shaking his head, Derek decides to just focus on shopping for right now and worry about his houseguest when he gets back home.


	6. Something Old, Something New

All in all, it takes about an hour and a half for Derek to get everything he needs, even going as far as to let Alex know that he might not be in for a little while, as he had a guest that wasn’t up to coming into town just yet.

Thankfully, all Alex says is that he expects to at least see Derek running around with Bean still and that he has the number of the gym if his friend needs to take out some aggression on their punching bags.

When Derek asks why the older man doesn’t seem to have the same suspicion the rest of the town seems to carry for Stiles, Alex just shrugs his shoulders and states, “He hasn’t caused any problems yet. And he’s your friend, so there’s gotta be _something_ good about this guy. Your judgement hasn’t been off yet.”

Shoving at the man’s shoulder and implying that his judgement is **_terrible_** , considering that Derek has someone like **_Alex_ ** as a friend, Derek manages to make it out of _Barbells and Bench Presses_ with only a light blush and most of his dignity intact.

Now, as Derek makes his way back into the house and puts the groceries on a counter by the wall, Bean clicking his way ahead of him, he takes a look at where Stiles is still sitting at the kitchen table. There is a strewn mess of papers around him, so Derek knows that Stiles wasn’t just sitting around waiting for him to return.

While part of him wonders what it is that has captured Stiles’ attention _this_ time, Derek takes the few moments it takes Bean to make it to the man to _really_ study him. To try to see what it is that has everyone in town so on guard...

While Derek can see the tenseness in Stiles’ frame, even when he’s supposedly at rest, all that stands out to him is the weariness that clings to Stiles’ scent that is slowly becoming so embedded that Derek worries it will push out the sharp petrichor scent that has always been at the base.

Swallowing hard, Derek then switches over to his wolf vision as Stiles finally pulls himself out of his research mode and greets Bean.

The sound he makes at his discovery pulls Stiles’ attention away from the dog, a smile on his face when he sees Derek... A smile that drops down to nothing the longer Derek stares at him without saying anything.

“Derek? What is it?”

There is always... Well, Derek was never a fan of the word, but there’s really no other way to describe it. Every person had an _aura_ around them, something that showed if there was some kind of supernatural connection in their blood or not.

(Lydia, when she had ‘woken up’ held a smokey, ashy outline that flowed behind her not unlike the way cloth moved underwater. It was more than a little unnerving and Derek made a point of never looking at her for too long whenever the pair of them had worked together.)

 _That_ made sense. What Derek now saw did _not_.

Stiles had always said there was absolutely _no chance_ of anything supernatural in his blood and his scent agreed with that. Lydia always had a strange pepper-soot smell that Derek had brushed off as her being chemically inclined before Stiles had said that Lydia’s greatest love was math, not chemistry.

“Derek?” Stiles pulls him back to the present, hands out like- “What’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Stiles’ aura...

Stiles’ aura is...

“Derek?”

There are _flames_ surrounding the man; purple and a deep, heavy blue, twisting around his form in flickering bursts, like the afterimages you see after a bright light is flashed in your face or if you accidentally look at the sun after being in the dark for too long. His worry and fear are flickering shadows amongst the fire, dimming the blazing colors until they look sickly and make Derek take an unconscious step forward.

Unfortunately, it makes Stiles take a step back, hands shooting up like he’s warding off a blow.

It pulls Derek out of his own head, blinking his sight back to a human register and swallowing heavily. He’s never seen anything like that before, and isn’t sure he knows what to do now, but he has to ask.

“What happened after I left Beacon Hills?”

“What?” Stiles looks a little confused at the non sequitur, but he’s lowering his hands and no longer looking at Derek like he’s a threat, which is slowly ebbing away Derek’s own tension. “What does _that_ have to do with anything??”

“Did... did Scott ever tell you about the benefits that our wolf sight gave us?”

An... _interesting_ expression flickers across Stiles’ face at the mention of his best friend, there and gone before Derek can really process it. He almost feels bad for asking, but whatever is going on with Stiles needs to be addressed first.

“He said that he could see Kira’s fox with it? Like a shield or protection over her physical body.”

“That’s right. We can see hints of a supernatural’s nature. My mother called them auras.” Stiles makes a sound at Derek’s mention of his mother, something that is both sympathetic and intrigued, but he doesn’t press any further than that. “We can tell if someone is a wolf, kitsune, banshee... or something else.”

“Derek...” A sense of trepidation and understanding has crept into Stiles’ voice, and while he hates himself for putting it there, Derek knows that this isn’t something that can be pushed under the rug. _Especially_ if Stiles doesn’t know what, exactly, has changed.

“Are you saying... that there’s **_something there_**? That you can see one of those- those _aura_ things around me now?”

“Yes.” Derek once more shifts over to his wolf sight, taking in the movement of the flames around Stiles’ body and finds himself in agreement with Scott’s passing comment; it does look like a shield, like it promises swift retribution to whoever dares to try to hurt Stiles.

“And it’s **_beautiful_**.”

Stiles eyes go wide and shocked at Derek’s words, bottom lip sucked into his mouth and chewed on before he finally asks, “ _What does it look like_?” in a voice that’s just barely over a whisper.

Taking a deep breath, Derek moves forward again, watching as Stiles watches him raise his hands and use them to follow one arching flame’s path. It might just be his imagination, but he thinks he can actually feel a bit of heat under his palm. It reminds him of warm sheets just out of the dryer, treats being cooked out under the stars, and the energy that travels over his form whenever he shifts from man to wolf, or wolf to man.

“I’ve never seen anything like it before.” Derek’s voice is also a whisper, even as he leans closer, eyes traveling all over Stiles’ body as the flames jump at his words. This close, he’s picking up a sweet cinnamon sugar smell that tells him that Stiles isn’t as afraid as he was before.

“It’s wrapped all around you, like it’s daring anyone to even get close. It looks like even the slightest hint of you being in danger would cause it to explode outwards... and yet...” Derek’s hands follow the flames to Stiles’ shoulders, resting there as he meets the younger man’s eyes. “And yet, they don’t see me as a threat?”

It was meant to be a statement. A reassurance that Stiles wasn’t in any danger from him. But Derek’s shock and worry from Stiles’ earlier actions have his voice taking that upwards pull, making him double check with Stiles that he still sees Derek as a friend.

Stiles gets what he’s saying right away, as always when dealing with him, and he keeps his gaze steady on Derek’s face as he states. “Of course not, I’m not afraid of you.”

There’s a moment of silence after those words, and this time, Stiles doesn’t take them back. His heart stays steady and Derek can’t help but show that same courage back to his companion.

“And I’m not afraid of you. I meant what I said. It _is_ beautiful, and it doesn’t look like anything bad or wrong. We’ll figure out what it is. **_Together_**.”

* * *

“To be honest, I thought that you would be more... upset about all of this.”

Derek is hesitant to speak, not wanting to break the calm that had fallen over them after his promise to help Stiles find out about the new addition to his aura, but still unsure if Stiles was as okay with this as he appeared to be.

His comment is met with a snort, Stiles’ face curled up into a sardonic smile that makes a swirl of guilt curdle in his stomach, more so when Stiles replies with forceful cheer, “To be honest, I was expecting something like this to happen ever since a demonic fox spirit possessed me and tried to kill all my friends.”

Flinching at that reminder, and the memory of panicked nights searching for someone he was half-afraid he was going to lose at the end of it all, Derek drops his gaze to the table under his hands. It still weighs heavily on him that there wasn’t more that he could do for Stiles, for the boy that always came back for him and always seemed to be there whenever Derek needed help.

A soft sigh tells him that Stiles has picked up on his mood, but before he can say anything, Stiles is cutting him off with a, “It’s not your fault, Sourwolf. _I_ was the one that decided to sacrifice myself and, from what I hear, _you_ spent all your time trying to find me. That has to get you a pass this time.”

“Who told you that I was looking for you?” Derek looks up at that, wondering who possibly has told Stiles about that. As far as Derek knew, the Carver boy that survived the whole Nogitsune thing left soon after and the only other person who could have guessed-

“Chris let me in on your one man army search for me before he left town.” Stiles grimaces at the man’s name, a look of guilt crossing his face and sharpening his scent as it does so. “He said... he said if I ever- ever felt like I didn’t belong in Beacon Hills, with Scott’s Pack, that there was someone who had searched high and low for me, that wasn’t going to let _anyone_ hurt me - possessed or not - and that person wasn’t my Dad.”

Derek swallows, hearing a whole story in Stiles’ tone and wondering if he should ask about that. This is only the second time that Stiles has mentioned Scott, neither with the same closeness that usually colored his words, and there is a strange cadence to his mention of his father as well.

There was also the fact that Stiles called it “ _Scott’s_ Pack”, and not “ _our_ Pack”...

It makes Derek wonder what happened when he departed, what other monsters might have tried to tear apart the young group that he left behind.

If it might have succeeded, for all that Stiles is standing alive and whole in front of him.

“Scott’s still alive, by the way.” It seems that something must have shown in his expression, some bit of his inner thoughts, because Stiles is giving him that same smile that Derek hates on his face. “I know that you two had that whole ‘wolf brothers’ thing going on and you were super into getting him to be part of your Pack while you were Alpha-”

“Because an Omega is a hair’s breadth away from going feral with no anchors to settle him and far easier to fall to a Hunter’s bullet!” Derek growls, irritated that this was _still_ being thrown in his face, even all these years later. “After he flat out _refused_ to join me, I was only trying to help him learn to keep his wolf and human sides in balance, to keep him from getting **_killed_**! I meant that we were more brothers in arms than anything else!”

“Wow.” Stiles is looking at him with wide eyes, halfway between incredulous and laughter, his lips twitching up into a grin despite him trying to look serious. “Scott had made it sound like you were obsessed with him. That you were a hiccup away from making him drink the Kool-Aid and forcing him to join your wolves-only cult.”

Derek groans out, rubbing a hand over his face before staring Stiles straight on. “He was _constantly_ showing off and doing things that he _never_ had been able to do before. Not to mention, he was getting involved with the daughter of a Hunter family that had _proven_ before that their following of the Code was basically ‘more of a guideline’ way. _Of course_ I was going to interfere more than I would if he kept his head down and didn’t draw attention to himself. He was a self-centered, self-absorbed little _shit_ , but I didn’t want him to **_die_**.”

Stiles opens his mouth, a rebuttal or some kind of defense for Scott half built even as he breathes in, but then he just... stops. He shuts his mouth and frowns, brows furrowed like he’s just realizing something that had been at the back of his mind before he drops his head in a slow nod.

Derek blinks at the quiet acknowledgement, both because it was _quiet_ and because he expected much more from Stiles in defense of his supposed ‘forever best friend’, The fact that Stiles is simply agreeing tells Derek a lot about what had happened since the last time he saw the supposed ‘True Alpha’.

“Stiles...” Derek watches as Stiles’ shoulders hunch up, like he’s expecting the next thing out of Derek’s mouth to be hurtful, a demand or a condemning, of shoving Stiles into that same mold as Scott in the beginning. He can’t stand to be even a moment of Stiles’ pain, so he simply changes his question.

“Are you hungry?”

He gets a quick glare for that, for changing his tone and no doubt making Stiles feel like he’s being treated with kid gloves. But then the glare weakens into something more grateful and tired as Stiles mutters, “Not really, but neither of us ate much breakfast, so we should at least try to have a decent meal.”

Not having anything else to say, Derek moves over to the bags he brought in, taking out the basics for a few sandwiches as he puts the rest of the groceries away. Halfway through, Bean comes back in from his adventures in the yard and immediately begins barking and hopping around Derek’s feet, nearly tripping him a few times.

A choked off noise makes him look up to see Stiles with one hand over his mouth, eyes alight with laughter. As soon as he sees Derek looking at him, Stiles tries to school his expression into a more serious look, but he’s given away by the twitching of his lips.

“Sorry-”

“Don’t apologize.” Derek knows that his tone should be softer, that the harshness of his voice would make it seem like he’s angry - which he _is,_ just not at Stiles - so he tries a smile to soften his initial severeness. “You have no reason to be sorry for being _happy_ , Stiles.”

“You just looked-”

“Ridiculous, I know.” Derek shakes his head, gently pushing Bean out of the way with his foot as he makes it to the table. “Especially since Bean doesn’t seem to understand that _guests eat first._ ”

Bean, probably because he hears his name, barks back at Derek. He puts on an exaggerated frown and glares down at the puppy. “I know you’re hungry, but you can wait for a few moments to get fed.”

This earns him another bark and a single, sharp laugh from behind him. Derek looks up with a grin, Stiles smiling back at him with a slight grimace, like he’s stretching a long forgotten muscle. As soon as he realizes that he’s being watched, Stiles ducks his head and begins tucking into the sandwich in front of him.

“Quit being a creeper and feed the puppy, Sourwolf.”

Derek chuckles and does as he’s told, basking in the warm contentment that suffuses the kitchen, unable to keep his own smile from spreading across his face.


	7. Share The Demons In Your Soul

It’s a few days later that Stiles mentions the change in his aura again, speaking out into the silence as they were watching a movie together. Derek was paying a bit more attention to the way that Stiles was slowly psyching himself up to say something, so he doesn’t jump when Stiles suddenly speaks.

“You said before that you didn’t know what my aura meant, what kind of supernatural I was now. Do you know anybody that does, or where we can begin looking?”

Derek decides not to mention that Stiles hasn’t asked what the aura looked like himself, a little surprised given Stiles’ need to research everyone and everything, and instead answers, “I know of an Alpha a few states over that could answer your questions. They’ve had a few interactions with a couple of creatures that didn’t pass through my home when I was younger, so they might know what it is that I don’t.”

Stiles nods once and goes back to watching the movie, seemingly content with that answer, but now Derek has a few questions of his own. He doesn’t want to bother Stiles while he seems so at ease, but it’s not too long before Stiles pauses the movie and turns to face him.

“Alright, Sourwolf. What’s the problem? Is this Alpha an asshole? Do I need to bring my bat?”

Shaking his head, Derek wonders how to phrase this without getting Stiles’ guard up or making him feel like Derek is patronizing him. He figures the best way to go is straight through and to fix any misunderstandings as they come.

“Are you going to be leaving tomorrow? Do you need me to go with you? Or, if you go by yourself, would you promise me that you’ll bring more than your bat? As long as you make yourself known to the Alpha, they won’t have a problem with you having a way of defending yourself... just so long as you don’t cause any trouble.”

“When have I ever gone _looking_ for trouble?”

Derek glares at Stiles, not buying the innocent act for one second. “ _Who_ was it that went looking for _half of a dead body_ because his life was too boring? Because it wasn’t _me_.”

Hitting Derek on his shoulder, Stiles still makes a wavy ‘fair enough’ gesture with his other hand before sighing as he looks back to the movie, not really seeming to see it or that he still has a hand on Derek as well.

“Part of me wants to see this guy- Are they a guy? Or are they a woman? Not important. What I’m trying to say is that there is a part of me that wants to see this Alpha by myself, prove that I can do this on my own and that I don’t need anyone holding my hand. I’ve taken care of myself and other people for so long, what’s one more thing?”

Stiles pauses, swallows, but doesn’t continue until Derek shifts a little closer, just enough to show that he’s there and asks, “But?”

“But something tells me that I’ll probably need you there to keep them from ripping my head off when I say something that ultimately pisses them off. Not to mention, I’m not sure how all this,” Stiles motions to himself, a sweeping gesture starts at his face before going down to his toes, stopping only to give Bean a pat when his movements get the dog’s attention, “is going to go over with them. I mean, I know you said it was beautiful...”

Stiles grimaces and looks away, something in his memories making his scent harsh and metallic, so sharp that Derek fears it will cut if allowed to linger for too long. So, in an effort to keep those kinds of thoughts from overcoming him - something that Derek knew all too well - he gives Stiles a not-so-gentle shove and states, “You’re going to need more than just me to say that everything is alright, especially considering that I don’t even know what your aura means.”

The shove startles Stiles enough that he glares at Derek when he rights himself, but the question thankfully takes Stiles out of wherever his thoughts were taking him as he snips, “Yeah, I don’t think we can survive stumbling through this shit a second time. I barely had enough karma to make it the _first_ time, I don’t want to press my luck.”

Derek growls a little at the reminder of how close Stiles came to death when he was in Beacon Hills, how the shadow of what happened afterward still lingers in the way Stiles will get so quiet that Derek presses a hand against his shoulder or startles him with a random question, fearful that he may fall into silence and never return.

Stiles waves away the noise, a pleased smile still lingering around his lips as he says, “Let’s just focus on this Alpha and what we need to do to make a good impression. Your family name is going to get us through the door, what do we need to do to stay invited?”

“It’s not like a secret society, Stiles. As long as you aren’t an asshole to anyone, you’ll do just fine.” Off Stiles’ disbelieving look, Derek rolls his own eyes and clarifies, “Don’t insult them, even if you think they’re wrong. Don’t be crude or unseemly, unless it’s a joke that you know that they’ll get and not be offended by. Just think of it like you’re going to visit someone that is a little more important than your average mayor and you’re good.”

“ _Really?_ That’s it!?”

“Yeah. It’s like... you’re not going to think very highly of someone that came into your town and insulted your father, right?”

There is... an undercurrent of a bitter guilty-pain scent at Derek’s words, but Stiles shoots Derek a quick smile before saying, “Yeah. I think I get it now. You know what? All this talk of making a good impression has me wondering if I have anything nice - or even halfway decent - to wear while we’re there. I’m gonna just...”

With a kind of wave-arm sweep, Stiles pushes himself off from the couch and makes it up the stairs before Derek can even say anything in response, Bean whimpering at the chemicals that Derek can smell.

Not to mention that he just lost the bed he was snoozing on.

Derek isn’t sure what he should do here; if he should just stay on the couch, watching a show that he’s no longer interested in, or follow Stiles to try and figure out what had happened. And make sure that he avoided it in the future, so that Stiles never had to feel like he needed to hide from Derek again.

Mind made up, Derek turns off the television and follows in Stiles’ footsteps, grinning at the sound of Bean’s eager paws clambering after him. Maybe, if Stiles wasn’t interested in opening up to Derek, Bean could cheer him up by being his adorable puppy self.

It’s only after Derek has taken a few steps that he hears the very measured breathing coming from Stiles’ room.

“Stiles?” Derek sprints the last few steps to Stiles’ door, a quick knock following his words, Bean whining at his heels. “Are you alright?”

The only response that he gets is a rasping sound that has part of a word in it, but then there is that measured breathing, the inhales and exhales louder than before. It makes Derek feel like Stiles is trying extra hard to sound like there is nothing wrong.

Derek tries the door and is a little surprised to feel it turn, but he calls out once more instead of just barging in like almost all of his brain is screaming at him to, Bean whimpering gaining volume and his paws tapping at the door the longer they stay outside it.

“Stiles? Do you want me to leave? I will, if you want me to. I know you walked away, but you- You don’t sound...”

There is another whimper, and Derek just waits until he hears the first half of his name before he’s pushing the door open and moving over to where Stiles is slumped against his bed, dropping down onto the floor beside him as Bean flops down onto Stiles’ other side.

“Come on, Stiles. I’m right here, just breathe. Breathe with me, in... and then out.”

Stiles makes a whining noise, a choked out, “I’m sor-” that Derek interrupts before Stiles can get any further.

“Not now. We’ll talk about that later. Right now, we’re going to focus on your breathing, alright? We’ll talk about everything later, because - knowing you - there _will_ be talking later.”

Stiles lets out a strangled giggle and then _drops_ against Derek’s chest, pressing in and taking deep breaths of his scent. It startles Derek for a moment, because the last time this happened, Stiles was still half asleep and in the grips of a nightmare. He is completely awake and _aware_ now, and is _still_ pressing close to Derek for comfort.

Not wanting Stiles to think that his presence is unwanted, _especially_ now that he’s in a vulnerable head space, Derek wraps his arms around Stiles and hums in what he hopes in a soothing manner as he continues to breathe in measured breaths. He keeps the time in his head, one ear on Stiles’ heart to make sure this attack didn’t have any adverse effects on Stiles’ body.

Surprising no one, as soon as Stiles gets his breath back, he starts talking.

“There was this guy, back in Beacon Hills, that had been busted over and over for all kinds of shit. Breaking and entering, unlawful possession, you name it, he’s done it. I was there once when they were booking him and my Dad mentioned that the judge said his next arrest would get him jail time.” Stiles takes a few measured breaths, in deep through his nose and then a long exhale through his mouth. “He freaked, telling my Dad that he was gonna kill him, that this was all my Dad’s fault, that he’d be dead before the next morning. I laughed at him, not only because he had three guys on him when he said that, but because everyone in the station would be on the lookout for him if he ever even _thought_ about going through with it.”

Hearing that makes Derek feel like shit, his comment about insulting Stiles’ father so much harsher in hindsight. “Stiles, I’m so-”

“No.” Stiles shakes his head once, then stops immediately and places a hand against his forehead, wincing slightly. “You just brought the memory back, that’s not what triggered the attack.”

Derek takes a moment, wondering if he should ask, if he should start down that rabbit hole. Looking at Stiles, at the way he’s shaky and pale, the way he keeps closing his eyes and breathing like he’s fighting off several panic attacks in a row decides for Derek.

“Then what did?”

“What happened afterwards.”

The words are a wheeze, and Stiles’ eyes start to lose their focus as he begins to ramble out a jumbled mess of words that make almost zero sense to Derek.

“I always wondered how he found me, if there was something that Theo did to my baby... Was it pure dumb luck? Did he know that the school was being worked on? Did Scott tell him, or was that back when he was still pretending to be normal? Did he already talk to me about V- Void or was that after? I don’t know, I can’t _remember_... Is that because it’s been so long, or are there other things I can’t remember?!? Oh god, _oh god,_ **_oh god_** **-** ”

“Stiles!” Derek squeezes Stiles’ hands hard enough to make a whimper leave Stiles’ lips, his gaze darting up to Derek with hurt in his eyes. Derek ignores the thump his heart makes at seeing that, instead exaggerating his breathing again until Stiles follows along, waiting a few minutes before adding on, “You’re not making any sense. Relax. _Focus_. You aren’t there any more. You’re here, in Slate, with me.”

Stiles flushes a bit, but he nods and once again goes back to his breathing. Derek makes him wait until his heart has returned to its slightly-faster-than-normal rhythm before Stiles speaks again.

“I was outside of the school, trying to fix whatever was wrong with my car at the time. I was using some duct tape-”

Derek can’t help but snort at that, at the way that Stiles had tried so hard to keep that old Jeep alive. He may have tried to help with that, back when he was still living in Beacon Hills, after hearing that the car once belonged to Stiles’ mother. The parts were certainly old enough, and a part of him always wondered if Stiles noticed, if he wondered who helped him.

Derek’s snort makes Stiles smile for a moment, eases the paleness from his face. Swallowing down the pride he feels for something so simple as making Stiles feel better, Derek instead gives Stiles’ hands a squeeze, Stiles blinking in surprise at their hands before squeezing back.

“Like I was saying, I was working on Roscoe and I was so focused that I didn’t even realize that someone was coming up on me.” Stiles releases one of Derek’s hands to rub at his shoulder, a distracted air around him that tells Derek that he isn’t even aware he’s doing it. “This guy... when I first met him, I would swear to you that he was human, but right then. Right then he had _teeth_ in his hands and he was trying to _rip my face off_. His other arm was around my neck, but I got one good headbutt in and managed to crack him across the face with a wrench I had on the Jeep at the time.”

“Breathe.” is Derek’s gentle reminder as Stiles’ words and heartbeat get faster as he continues on, Stiles pausing to do just that before getting to the next part of his tale.

“I ran into the school, _terrified_ because I could see him getting up, his teeth long and sharp like needles. I don’t know why I was so scared; I faced off against things _way_ worse than him before, but I think it was that I didn’t have anyone with me, that he was gunning for _me_ , not that I was in the way, that I had dropped my phone at some point, but still had _that damn wrench_ on me...”

Stiles shakes his head, dropping the hand he had on his shoulder and staring at Derek like he’s still there, still running frantically through those halls, looking for some sort of escape. Derek whispers Stiles’ name, recapturing his hand and giving them both a gentle tug, snapping Stiles out of his memories and pulling him back to here and now.

“You don’t have to say anymore, Stiles.” Derek isn’t sure it’s a good idea for Stiles to continue, as pale and unmoored as he’s looking right now. “We can wait until you’re feeling more up to it, or when the memories aren’t as prevalent-”

“It’s been **_years_** , Derek, and I _still_ get attacks from it. I _need_ to finish talking about it, I _can’t_ stop now.”

It doesn’t help hearing Stiles say that, because Derek still feels an overwhelming urge to help Stiles stop feeling so scared, but still protect him from whatever it is that is making him feel that way. There’s not a lot of options when the problem is a _memory,_ but the more animalistic part of Derek’s mind doesn’t care about that; all it wants to do is pull Pack close and bite at the enemy until it is **_dead_**.

Pushing away the thought that Stiles already feels like Pack despite only being there for barely a month, Derek still gives in to the need to protect and pulls Stiles close. It earns him a slight squeak of surprise when Stiles’ face somehow ends up in Derek’s chest, but a low rumble seems to soothe any wounded pride.

“Talk. _Breathe_. You’re not in the school. You’re not being chased. You’re telling me this to get it out of your head. I’m listening, Stiles. Let me be your anchor.”

Stiles’ hands have come up to rest on Derek’s arms when he was tugged forward, most likely to balance himself or keep himself from falling completely into Derek’s lap, but those words have his fingers dig in tight. If Derek had been a human, he’s sure that there would be imprints of Stiles’ nails if he looked there later.

“I had made my way to the library, somehow. Probably got turned around because I wasn’t thinking straight. I was looking for a phone, trying to find the teacher’s lounge or some other office area. The library was locked, it was a new addition and they were still working on it, so I used my card and hoped that Do- the guy had forgotten his.”

Unable to ignore the slip, Derek learns at least two things; this guy is someone that Stiles knows - knew? - more than he’s letting on, and that he was being tormented by someone at least around the same age as he was. If the soothing rumble that Derek was making raises in pitch at that, Stiles seems too lost in his story to call him out on it.

“He- he hadn’t and he followed me in. He started talking about my Dad and his Dad. They apparently knew each other, worked together when my Dad had been a Deputy. His Dad had gotten shot during a call, in the T9 vertebra, making everything below his waist useless. This guy... this guy was talking like it was my Dad’s fault, because his partner rushed in when my Dad was trying to call for backup. He was calling him a _bitch_ and a _coward_ , asking if my Dad even told me about it.”

The tremor in Stiles’ voice says no, the Sheriff never told him about that particular day at work.

“He was moving around during this entire time and- and I was _angry_. I thought about rushing out of my hiding spot and straight up **_punching him in the face_**. All of the fear that I was feeling earlier was twisting into anger with each word that he said, making me want to hurt him more and more. But there was still this voice that said _that was what he wanted,_ me so furious that I wasn’t thinking straight. Eventually, he got tired of hearing his own voice and just started looking around for me. When he had walked over where I was hiding, I thought that he was moving away, going to the other side of the library. I still didn’t really move, other than to shift where I was in an attempt to hear where he was better.”

Stiles breathes in deeply, fingers tightening on Derek’s arms like he isn’t sure if he should pull closer or push away. He doesn’t speak for the longest time after that, prompting Derek to be the one to break the silence this time.

“It was self defense, Stiles. Whatever- whatever happened, he was _coming after you_ and _targeted_ you. Whatever you did, you did it to _protect yourself._ ”

Stiles decides on pulling away, but only to look at Derek with wide eyes and a slack jaw. “I haven’t even told you what I did yet. How do you know I didn’t just run away like a coward?”

Derek outright _growls_ at that, a deep snarl that makes Stiles jump a little. “That’s _bullshit_. You getting away from a _known threat_ that _almost overpowered you already_ isn’t cowardice, it’s _intelligence_. You trying to survive could _never_ be a cowardly act!”

For a few heartbeats, Stiles just stares at Derek, giving him an unimpeded view of his eyes slowly filling with tears and spilling over his cheeks. Derek is struck by the surprising and sudden onslaught of a miasma of Stiles’ emotions; guilt and hope, anger and a bone deep relief that makes Derek whine low in his throat, a sympathetic ache throbbing right behind his breastbone.

The sound seems to jolt Stiles into motion, once more pulling away, but only going so far as to wipe his hands over his face, head down as he clears his throat a few times, but still with Derek’s hands resting on his hips and his body still leaning into Derek’s orbit.

“This- this other guy, **_Theo_** -” The name is practically spit, said with all the venom a multitude of curses usually carry, making Derek’s brows raise as he makes a promise to himself to figure out the story behind _that_ guy, find out what he had done to make the mere _mention_ of his name carry such hatred. “Theo told his own version of events to Scott, twisted everything to make it seem like I- that I _purposefully_... And Scott **_believed_ ** him! Believed that I would- that I-”

This time it’s Stiles that stops himself, closes his eyes, breathes in and out in a measured tempo that Derek finds himself unconsciously mirroring. Derek is thankful for that, as the temperature in the room was rising with how angry Stiles was getting and it was slowly starting to get to Derek.

With one final exhale, Stiles opens his eyes and meets Derek’s gaze. It seems like this is the crux of everything, the trigger for all of the panic and the reason for his attacks, so as much as Derek still doesn’t want to bother Stiles or make him continue, he finds himself asking, “What happened, Stiles?”

Another throat clearing, a swallow and then Stiles was speaking in that dead tone that meant he was trying to separate himself from what he was discussing. Derek was already sick of hearing it, sounding so wooden and not-Stiles, but if that was what Stiles needed to do to get through this, then he was keeping his mouth shut even if it killed him.

“He just _jumped_ me, out of _nowhere_ , pulling me through a bookcase and dragging me across the floor. He tried getting me in the headlock again and I just headbutted him again. Asshole should have known better than to use the same trick twice.” Stiles lets loose a bitter laugh at that, swallowing hard and shaking a little. “I started up this scaffold then, thinking that maybe I could get to the higher ground, get out of his reach and escape along the walkway. I didn’t get that far before he had grabbed my foot and said that he decided that he wasn’t going to kill me, just _eat my legs_.”

The shaking has turned into full out rocking now, Derek swaying with Stiles and just about to tell Stiles to try to breathe again when he drops his face into Derek’s neck and starts to sob.

“There was this pin holding a bunch of pipes together and I thought that they would be able to knock him down for long enough that I would be able to get away. All I needed to do is just pull that pin and I could _get away_. I was _so_ scared, Derek, but all I wanted was to get away and find someone that could help me. Scott, or Liam, or even _Malia_. I swear, all I wanted was to knock him out or just make him let go, so I pulled the pin and all the pipes fell and then there was this **_sound_** -”

Stiles makes a horrible noise in his throat, burrowing against Derek’s chest and shuddering like a child awoken from a nightmare, whimpers and whines slipping from his lips as he tries to pull himself together. Derek keeps his grip on him, humming soothing noises and turning his frantic rocking into a gentle rhythm that he prays Stiles takes some comfort from.

“It was so _quiet_ after that.” Stiles whispers this as his fingers dig into Derek’s skin, his face pressed into Derek’s neck. “Everything had seemed so loud before then: his voice, the pipes falling, _my heartbeat_... Right then, everything seemed to be holding its breath before I turned and saw that one of the pipes had managed to pierce him straight through the chest.”

“ ** _God_**...” It’s the first thing that Derek has said in a while, other than the reminder to breath, and it brings out another giggle from Stiles. Yet, there is nothing happy about the noise, more that the last few minutes have been of Stiles sobbing, so his body had decided to do something else for a change.

“Yeah. I think I was in shock when I climbed back down. I couldn’t stop staring at him, at the way he was skewered there. I even put my hands on the pipe, in some sort of twisted notion of maybe pulling it out of him...?” Stiles shakes his head, brushing Derek’s chin with his hair on each sweep. “I don’t know, but even with his last breaths, he was glaring at me like he would try to eat me if I even got close, so I just stood there with my hands on the pipe and watched him die.”

The last bit of that is said in such a miserable, guilty tone that it makes Derek growl again, but he keeps his voice gentle when he asks, “What were you thinking when you pulled the pin from the pipes?”

Other than a slight tensing at Derek asking a question, Stiles doesn’t really move or make any acknowledgement that he heard Derek. He is just about to ask again when Stiles finally responds with a befuddled, “What?”

Continuing to keep his voice soft and void of any judgement, Derek asks again, “When you were on the scaffold and pulling on the pin that you saw, what were you thinking?”

There was another pause, before Stiles replies with a bit of anger in his voice, “Well, it was a desperate medley of ‘oh god, oh god, I don’t wanna die, _I don’t wanna die_ , oh god, oh god’ and ‘Knock him out, make him take a few minutes to get out from under this, _give me time!_ ’”

“So, like I said before, what you did was _self defense_.” Stiles starts to shake his head, only to be halted in the motion when Derek takes his face in his hands and makes him meet his eyes.

“Stiles, going off _just_ your descriptions, you were fighting with _a supernatural creature_ and quickly realized that you were _severely_ outmatched, despite getting in two decent hits that made this guy release you _both_ times. When you realized you couldn’t outmaneuver him with strength, you used _this_ ,” Derek presses his thumb right between Stiles’ eyes, feeling his skin furrow around it, “to try to give yourself an advantage that way. Hide until you find a way out, get to higher ground, throw something on him so that he was more focused on getting out and giving yourself _time to get away_. Get away and _find another supernatural for help_. All of those thoughts only went as far as to _incapacitate_ him, _not_ hurt him. And as sure as Hell, not _kill_ him! It was _self defense_ and even _if_ you swung a pole at him, it would _still_ be self defense. **_He was trying to eat you alive_**!”

“But Scott said-”

“Stiles!” Derek’s voice is a little sharp when he cuts Stiles off this time, but he can’t help it. He’s angry. Not at Stiles, but at everyone who ever made him doubt his self worth, or gave him Scott _fucking_ McCall as a paradigm of virtue and righteous. “ ** _Scott was wrong_** **.** ”

“What?”

“He was wrong.” Derek moves his hand from Stiles’ forehead to his cheek, thumb rubbing over the skin in a caress that he can’t bring himself to stop. “He was wrong about this and I’m pretty sure he was wrong about _a lot_ of other things. You believed me when I said that he was lying about the reason I was desperate to get him to join my Pack, right?”

Stiles freezes at the question, mouth moving like there are a few things that he wants to say, but can’t quite make it out of his mouth. Derek can guess that some of them are the automatic reflexes to come to Scott’s defense. He can relate, he had a few of those both when Peter came out of the coma _and_ when he came back from the dead. It will be a hard habit to break, but Derek is living proof that it can be done.

But that isn’t important right now. What _is_ important is the slow nod that Stiles is giving him, telling him that _yes_ , he believes that Derek was only desperate for Scott to be part of his Pack so that an unallied Omega wouldn’t get them all killed.

Derek nods back, taking a moment to get his heart back under his control. It should be evident, giving that Stiles is now living with him and letting Derek see him when he’s vulnerable, but the confirmation of Stiles’ trust in him is still a lot to take in sometimes.

“Then _trust me_ when I say that Scott was wrong, that nothing you told me about this guy was in any way premeditated, even given how angry he was making you talking about your father. _Trust me_ when I say that even if you _did_ take a swing at him and it ended up killing him, it _still_ would not have been anything other than _self defense_. He was trying to kill you and all you did was _try to get away_.”

“It’s... _not_ my fault? I... _didn’t_ kill him?” The tone is small and lost, almost childlike in both Stiles’ need to be reassured and his confusion at what had been so firmly rooted in his mind just a few moments ago.

“You didn’t kill him, Stiles. You were only defending yourself.”

“Scott was wrong.” Again, the tone is confused and like Stiles cannot fully grasp what is being said, although he seems to be trying to. Derek is reminded of the time his parents told Cora the truth about where babies came from. “ _Scott_ was _wrong_.”

“Yes. And not just about this, but about _a lot_ of things as well.”

Stiles ruminates on that while Bean pushes between the pair of them to put his head on Stiles’ lap, pushing at the hands that Stiles had dropped there in his shock. His pets to the puppy’s head are almost an afterthought as Stiles finally says, “I think there is a lot you and I need to talk about, both before _and_ after you left Beacon Hills.”

Derek sighs, not really wanting to get into everything that had happened when he had been pulled back to Beacon Hills by Laura’s death. The only reason he nods and shifts so that he is leaning against the foot of the bed next to Stiles is because Scott has already twisted their interactions into something far more sinister than Derek just trying to help the boy, maybe clearing this up as well will eradicate whatever misconceptions Stiles still holds him to.

He ignores the part of himself that hopes that, by clearing his name with Stiles, there might be a chance of their relationship deepening past friendship. That the smoldering _something_ that had simmered between them the entire time he was in Beacon Hills might have space to grow into _more._

“Where do you want to start?”


	8. Ghost Of A Friend

The rest of the evening is spent going over those first few years Derek returned to Beacon Hills and was constantly butting heads with Scott, from who he should be dating to what Scott considered important information that Derek needed to share with him.

“I had even _given him my phone number_ , so that he could call me if he felt that he was losing control or needed someone to talk to that knew what he was going through, or just because he felt like it! I tried, _so_ many times, to get him to understand that there was more than just _him_ being affected by what he was doing. But all that he was concerned with was what he could do with his asthma suddenly gone, that the girl that he liked thought he was cool, and everything was all about _him_. I was just the asshole that was controlling him and telling him what to do.”

“I wish I could say that it was because his Dad left him and his Mom when he was little, but he was always respectful and listened to _my_ Dad like the man was his own father.” Stiles’ voice clicks when he says that, fingers digging into Bean’s fur until the pup lets out a grumble of discontent, and wiggles away from Stiles’ grip. Huffing out a laugh, Stiles waves his hand in a manner that is reminiscent of his old flailing ways. “Maybe it’s because you’re a Hale and the first Hale he ever met - the first _werewolf_ he ever met - was Peter and he left a rather _infamous_ first impression.”

“I would understand that if I _acted like Peter_ , Stiles. I will admit, I got angry with him once or twice, maybe slammed him against a car-”

Stiles huffs out a chuckle at that and Derek is glad that this is something that they can laugh at, even though he hates the way he treated the boys in the beginning, his own grief and fear making him even _less_ of a social creature than he was before.

“-but otherwise I tried _my hardest_ to understand where he was coming from and try to meet him halfway. I never said he couldn’t play lacrosse, just that he needed to learn control _first_. Or how to be discreet with his abilities. The only sticking point I will admit I wasn’t budging on was that getting involved with an Argent was just flirting with a death wish.”

There is a moment of quiet when they both think of the way that the Argent heir fell into their lives. Derek remembers that party, the full moon overhead and the way that it had pulled at his senses. He could only imagine the toil it had been on Scott, how close he came to losing his control. Back then, Allison was just a girl that Derek knew that Scott liked, so he made sure to meet her, see if she could help him focus Scott without putting her in danger...

It wasn’t until she was in his car and they were driving towards her house that Derek smelt the smallest amounts of gunmetal and wolfsbane. It wasn’t enough that she was the one that dealt with it, but that she interacted with people that handled it on a daily basis.

There was a moment then, one that Derek isn’t sure he’ll ever tell Stiles about, where he thought about tearing out her throat and leaving her on the doorstep for her parents to find. As both a message and a way that they might feel a modicum of the pain that Derek was dealing with _every day_. It wasn’t until Allison had turned to him, shy and curious and **_naive_** , that Derek had pushed the feeling down and brought her home.

Talking to her about Scott, seeing her blush and request that he tell Scott to call her, made Derek think that there might have been a chance for them if Allison hadn’t been an Argent. She had seemed innocent then, but someone was going to take that innocence and twist her into a Hunter. It would be better to just cut this off before they both got hurt.

That was one of the times that Derek had wished he was wrong, no matter who it was he was thinking about.

“I miss her.”

Derek doesn’t try to ask who Stiles is talking about, although there are a few people that he could be referencing. He simply leans over slightly, resting his cheek against the top of Stiles’ head.

His action makes Stiles let out a long, sad sigh before he asks, “Did you know that we were friends? Yeah, nobody really believes that. They all think that I was pissed at her because she took all of Scott’s time. I didn’t really _care_ how much time she took, I was just happy that my bro was getting to be with his girl. I _hated_ that Scott would just _forget_ to tell me that they were going to spend time together, or just cancel plans last minute to spend time with her. A couple of times, Allison would text me from his phone when I asked if he was gonna show or if he had any free time. It happened so often that I just gave her my number, cut out the middleman.”

Stiles picks at his fingers, scent foggy with melancholy and guilt, voice pitched almost too low to hear. “We started talking then, about Scott, school, and eventually random shit that just crossed our minds. Did you know there was a time where she thought about joining the lacrosse team? The only reason that she didn’t was because I told her that I was worried that Scott might suffer a _permanent injury_ because he’d be too focused on her to play the game.”

Derek snorts at that, not sure how to feel about hearing this side of the girl that shot his Pack full of arrows and told him that he basically turned children into monsters. He gets that Gerard manipulated her, that her anger and pain at her mother’s death led her to lash out at those she thought responsible, but he never fully trusted her after that.

Yet, it sounds like she was a good friend, a _much_ better friend than Scott was if she took the time to realize that Stiles was being neglected by her coupling with the other boy. It made him think again that the name Argent was a poison, corrupting and infecting things until they lay dying at their feet.

Stiles has been silent while Derek has been lost in his own mind, but then he stretches out his legs and states, “Scott refuses to talk about her, won’t even mention her name. The one time I tried to bring it up, to talk about the Nogitsune and the sacrifice Allison made, he completely shut me down. Said that it was all behind us and that we were better now, to not dig up the past.”

“So you just... _never_ talked about it?”

Shaking his head, Stiles pulls up his legs to bury his face in them before turning his head away from Derek. “No. Not even to Dad. I think he was so relieved that, aside from a nightmare here and there, that there were no outward signs of what happened with the Nogitsune affecting me, he thought that bringing it up would just upset everything. Lydia- It took a _long_ time before Lydia would stop flinching whenever I made any sudden movements around her, so I knew better than to try to talk about what that thing did while wearing my face with her. This- this is the first time I’ve talked about this, probably since it happened.”

Derek lets that sink in for a second, eyes on the tense way that Stiles is holding himself after that confession. It hurts to see that he thinks he’s going to be ridiculed or berated for admitting that he missed his friend and was upset at what happened to her. Argent or not, Derek is not going to begrudge Stiles for wanting to mourn a lost friendship.

“Thank you.”

That gets Stiles’ attention; his head snaps back to Derek so fast he winces and rubs at it. “For _what_?”

“For trusting me. For telling me all of this, even though you know that the Argents and I don’t have the best of relationships.” Stiles mutters something that sounds a lot like ‘understatement’, but makes no other move to interrupt. “For just... choosing me to come to when you felt the need to get away. Take your pick.”

Stiles lets out a little huff at the end of Derek’s comment, moving so that they’re once more leaning on each other before quipping, “I’m still not so sure if that last one is something that you should be _thanking_ me for, Sourwolf, but you’re welcome. And... thank _you_ , for listening to me and letting me stay. I swear I’m gonna find some way to make it up to you, I _promise_.”

With a heavy sigh, Derek nudges his arm against Stiles’ side, wishing he could tell him that there was no need to pay him back, that there were still so many things that Derek needed to thank Stiles for, that he could be there all day and _still_ not have enough time to mention everything he wanted to say.

He doesn’t say not because he thinks it would be embarrassing, although it _is_ , a little. He doesn’t say it because he doesn’t really think Stiles will _hear_ it.

Oh, he’ll listen and nod along to whatever Derek says, but Derek doesn’t think that Stiles will really hear what Derek is trying to say, or he’ll just brush it to the side. Stiles has after all just realized that the man that everyone was always measuring him up against was capable - and culpable - of many, _many_ wrongs.

Getting him to accept that he was one of the major reasons Derek kept getting up when all he wanted to do was stay down would probably take some time.

Stiles breaks through his thoughts with a jaw splitting yawn, snorting when Bean mimics his actions a moment later. “I think that might be enough of a heart-to-heart for now. I’m exhausted, I’m pretty sure both of us are tired of sitting on the floor, and we _still_ need to start making plans to see that Alpha friend of yours in the morning. Come on, dude, up-up.”

Shaking his head, Derek pushes himself to his feet before reaching down and taking Stiles’ outstretched hand and easily lifting him up as well. He keeps a hold of Stiles’ hand for a moment more, making the man look at him quizzically as they stand there.

“I... I don’t expect anything for what I’m doing, Stiles.” Of everything that he wants to say, Derek feels that this might be one of the few that Stiles will actually listen to. “I’m doing it because I can see that you need it and with the hope that, if it was _you_ where I was standing and _me_ needing the place to stay, you would do the same.”

“ _Of course_ , big guy.” Stiles’ response is instantaneous and his heart beat is steady, a small grin slipping across his face before he states, “Although it _would_ be nice for you to _ask_ this time, instead of just inviting yourself in like last time.”

Laughing out loud at that, Derek puts a hand on Stiles’ face and pushes just hard enough to make Stiles fall back onto the bed. Stiles drops with no fuss, his own laughter bounding upward when Bean takes that moment to leap up on the bed and cover Stiles’ face with doggy kisses and paw at him.

“Come on, Bean! I’m not a chew toy! Get off of me!”

All that earns him is a few excited barks and even _more_ pawing, Bean obviously enjoying the attention and lighter attitude after the seriousness of the past few hours.

“Good night, Stiles.” Derek smiles, watching as Bean gives his own version of goodnight kisses as well. It’s nice to see Stiles so happy after the heaviness of their discussion. He hopes that there will be more times like this, where the stress and fear that followed Stiles into Slate disappears and he can see flashes of the carefree boy that ran all over Beacon Hills.

He whistles for Bean, the puppy leaping off the bed with a happy yip, toenails clicking against the floor as he makes his way over to Derek. Rubbing a quick hand over the puppy’s head, Derek is almost out of Stiles’ room before he hears a whispered, “Good night, Sourwolf.”


	9. A Bit of A Hiccup

Despite all evidence pointing to the contrary, Stiles sleeps soundly through the night and for a few hours into the morning. Derek makes sure to double check with him just in case he missed hearing Stiles wake, but Stiles reassures him that he slept like a baby and there were no night terrors.

Derek knows that doesn’t mean there will be no _more_ night terrors, he’s just happy that Stiles got a decent amount of sleep. The energy that Stiles gave off filled Derek with a kind of soft nostalgia of the nights spent in his loft researching the last thing that tried to kill them.

It’s not until after breakfast that Stiles mentions the Alpha Derek told him about, asking if there was something they needed to do to set up a meeting with them.

“I’m _serious_ , Sourwolf!” Stiles insisted when his question of needing to send out a smoke signal or howl under the full moon was met with uproars of laughter. “The last time an Alpha showed up, it was to shove a world of pain and suffering down our throats! I wanna know what happens when we actually _want_ to meet with an Alpha or two.”

“Well, I have to tell you, Stiles, there are these newfangled things called _cellphones_ that make connecting with other werewolves really easy.” Derek laughs at the bird Stiles gives him for his teasing, delighted that Stiles feels like rekindling the banter that they indulged in back in Beacon Hills. “No random howling or smoke signalling needed.”

“How boring. You guys are _really_ killing your mysterious vibe here, dude. Now, instead of some dark and troubled Alpha hidden in the shadows, I’m picturing some random person in a coffee shop drinking a macchiato.”

“Sorry to say that there are more macchiato drinkers than shadow sulkers. Welcome to the twenty-first century.” Derek pauses for a moment as he pulls his phone out of his pocket, feeling his brow furrow as he thinks of something that has been lurking in the back of his mind. “How much do you want to tell them? I mean, do you want them to know what it is that we’re looking for, or do you want to wait until we get there?”

“Whatever you think we should do, big guy.” is Stiles’ rather blithe reply, which does _nothing_ to calm Derek’s nervousness. He has studied many creatures and auras, planning for when he became Laura’s Beta, back when they thought it was a long off goal, something that wouldn’t happen until they were both happily mated and had children of their own. The fact that he cannot tell what Stiles’ aura means makes him a bit paranoid to just tell a _random Alpha_ about it, no matter that he was a family friend a few years ago.

Peter was his _Uncle_ , and the man had tried to kill him on more than one occasion. Derek was hesitant to tell everything to someone that was - for all intents and purposes - a complete stranger.

In the end, Derek simply texts a request to meet with Dominic Collins, a man that Derek has the clearest picture out of all the Alphas that passed through Beacon Hills when he was younger. He actually remembers meeting the man more than once and thinking that he seemed tough, but fair.

After sending the first text, Derek decides to ignore his phone for the day. He knows that if he keeps checking it, it will just drive him nuts and he will take his frustrations out on both Bean and Stiles.

Instead, he shows Stiles the garden that he was working on, a corner fenced off and away from Bean’s happy little digging paws. It’s a little funny to see the look on Stiles’ face when he sees the vegetables and herbs growing, even moreso when Derek offers him some of the ripe produce.

With a look that says Stiles thinks this is a whole new kind of prank, he takes some of the carrots and snap peas, munching them down, and then munching them down _again_ when he’s surprised by the taste and wants _more_.

Derek doesn’t quite know what his face is doing when Stiles praises his vegetables, but when Stiles looks up at him, he immediately begins cooing at him and talking about ‘adorable red cheeks’.

As if.

Pushing away Stiles’ fingers from poking at those supposed ‘red cheeks’, Derek gathers a few vegetables for their lunch, pulling Stiles to the other end of his garden, pointing out the wolfsbane he has there.

The mood drops when Stiles sees that, mouth opening - no doubt to demand to know why Derek has this - before Derek cuts him off with, “I just want to make sure you don’t have to lop off any arms in the future.”

Stiles’ mouth shuts with a click, a mulish look on his face as he eventually concedes with a short nod, asking to be briefed on the various strains that Derek has and whether or not they need to get more in the future.

Biting back the giddy smile that wants to break free at the thought of Stiles being around long enough to help him with his garden, Derek instead focuses on filling Stiles in on his wolfsbane stash.

That eats up a decent amount of hours before they go back into the house, Derek only looking at his phone after he finishes making lunch. He had originally planned to wait until _after_ they ate, but he couldn’t help it. The suspense was actually starting to grate on his nerves, which was just another thing that proved he was starting to relax into the peace he found here.

Thankfully, Dominic was amiable to meeting with them, even going so far as to offer them both safe passage in and out of his territory. No matter if they just popped in or stayed for a few weeks.

Derek shares this with Stiles after he has gone for his second plate. The action makes Derek wonder if he should keep an eye out for the food that Stiles eats, as well as how much sleep he’s getting, before dismissing the thought for now. It wasn’t an issue as far as Derek had seen, so he would let it go until it becomes concerning.

“Alright, so he’s good with us coming by and staying. Do we have a _time_ when we can see him? I mean, I know that you have your whole routine thing going on here, is there anybody that might freak if you disappear for a few days?”

“Olga might.” Derek hums, remembering how she had reacted the last time he told her about Stiles. Would she be even more upset when he told her he was now going to be leaving for a few days with him? He didn’t think that she would try to follow them, maybe he should just give her his phone number like he’s been thinking about doing...

“ _Olga_ , huh.” Derek looks over at Stiles when he says that, not really sure how to take his tone, but Stiles is just stabbing at his food like it personally offended him. Derek looks at his own plate, but he can’t see anything too offensive with the greens. Maybe Stiles wanted to have some meat with his food as well...?

“So, after you let **_Olga_** ,” there’s that _tone_ again, “know about the trip you’re going to take, we’ll be good to go?”

“Um, I guess?” Derek isn’t sure why he’s feeling like he said something wrong, but there is a metallic scent to the air and Stiles is eating like he’s ripping someone’s face off. “I mean, are we going to be taking Bean with us as well?”

Stiles stops what he’s doing when Derek asks that, no doubt hearing the hesitant tone his words have gained. He drops his fork down next to his plate and rubs both hands over his face, muttering something too low for even Derek to hear. It goes on for only a few moments, long enough for Derek to start considering abandoning his own food to check on him, before Stiles raises his head and plasters that fake smile that Derek hates so much on his face.

“If you don’t mind. I like having the fuzzball around and he’ll be good company if you and Alpha... Dominic, was it?” It takes a moment to realize what Stiles is talking about, but then Derek realizes that he’s replying to his question about Bean. Stiles answers Derek’s nod with one of his own, picking up his fork and moving things around on his plate. “If you and Alpha Dominic need to do some wolfy bonding and or courting while I’m there.”

“‘Wolfy courting’?” Derek asks, making sure that his tone is just a little lighter than normal, trying to get back the playful mood of only a few moments ago.

“Yeah, you know, to show that you mean no harm or as thanks for letting us stay?” Stiles’ cheeks are the ones that are ‘adorably red’ now, but Derek still isn’t sure if now is the time to tease him for it. “I know you said that we had to be polite and stuff, I’m just trying to figure out what the rules are!”

“Well, ‘don’t be a dick’ is a major one.” While still on edge due to the metallic scent in the air, Derek feels calm enough to at least start eating again. “It’s like I said before, just imagine that he’s a senator or someone sufficiently important and act like you would- _better_ than you would around them.”

Stiles very maturely sticks his tongue out at Derek, the metallic scent slowly dissipating as the meal goes on. It doesn’t get back to the summery happiness of before, though, instead it switches to something a little sickly sweet; almost like fruit that is just on the side of overripe.

It doesn’t help that Stiles once more demurs against going with him and makes some sort of forced cheerfulness when he tells Derek to say hello to Olga from him. Derek is strongly considering just staying at home, but there is a niggling doubt that staying will just upset Stiles _more_ for some reason.

So, he says goodbye, leashes up Bean, and heads into town.

Now, despite Stiles’ words, the first place Derek goes is _not_ the Beanery, but rather the grocery store. He buys a few amenities, things that he thinks they might need while they are away, but not anything that needs to be stored for a lengthy amount of time.

While shopping, Derek tries to remember what he has in his fridge, whether or not he needs to make a few meals out of the perishables so that they don’t come back home to rotten food.

Pausing with his hand on some eggs, Derek takes a moment to breathe deeply, Bean making a whuffling noise beside him. He rubs a distracted hand over the pup’s head, trying to calm his racing heart.

Up until now, he has always viewed Slate as someplace safe, a good place to settle down and live in. It was quiet and it didn’t have a very large supernatural community, if any.

It wasn’t until Stiles showed up that it really became _home_ , his noise and even his demons making Derek _feel_ for the first time in a long while, deeper emotions than the care of a pup gave him.

“I’m pretty screwed, aren’t I, boy?” Derek asks Bean, still absentmindedly petting him and not really expecting an answer. He didn’t really need one, though; he was well aware that Stiles was only here for a temporary amount of time and that letting the man know of his feelings would only end up in pain for him.

Shaking his head, Derek finishes up his shopping and finally makes his way over to the Beanery, struck with a sudden want to tell Olga of his realization. It’s a mixture of wanting her to be proud of him and needing her opinion on what he should do, but he also realizes that he can’t say anything. There is too much of his and Stiles’ story that lies in the supernatural for Derek to make up something believable or something that won’t have her reaching for a phone to call up the psych ward.

He was right, though. Telling her that he was leaving to visit a ‘family friend’ with Stiles _does_ make her growl at him. Him offering her his phone number, as well as a promise to call every other day, only barely tempered her worry. Her rant about whether or not she needs to follow Derek home to give Stiles a warning in _person_ has Derek fighting a smile at both the fact that he was _right_ and that he had a friend that was so concerned for his safety.

Despite him being built, as she had said, ‘like a brick shithouse’.

In the end, Derek also gives - what he hopes isn’t a bad - promise that he will try to get Stiles in town at some time so that Olga can meet with him and make her own assumptions. She had made a point once or twice that it was a little bit annoying, as well as worrying, to hear all sorts of things from everybody else in town and all Derek will tell her is that Stiles is a ‘good guy’.

Derek takes that not so subtle hint and promises once again that he will try to get Stiles to at least make one trip into town after they make it back from visiting Dominic.

Olga gives him a long glare before finally relenting, wrapping Derek up in a hug that takes him by surprise, but one that he easily returns. It is only half because he can see where her worry is coming from, and the other half is because the need for Pack scenting has slowly been making itself known ever since Stiles has shown up.

It’s not all that surprising that he thinks of Olga as Pack, and the fact that she has never smelled of desire or lust around him makes it easy for him to nuzzle her hair, making her whine a little when it makes her hairnet shift on her head.

With a chuckle, Derek helps her fix her hair up again before calling out a farewell, Olga’s promises of retribution if anything happens to him - as well as a promise to resurrect him just to kill him again - following him out.

“What do you think she’ll do when she finds out that we know something that can _actually_ make that happen?”

Bean barks in a way that Derek thinks would be a laugh if he was human, causing Derek to let out a chuckle of his own as he makes his way back to the house where Stiles is waiting.


	10. Meet The Collins Pack

The following days are spent getting everything ready for their trip, with Derek unable to ask Stiles about the strange mood that overcame him at lunch; he had been in good spirits ever since Derek came back from town and spent every moment after asking about Dominic and his Pack.

Dominic’s Pack is based a few towns over, his territory covering a few miles of land, his Pack large enough and steady enough for a few of them to be settled in the different towns in an attempt to look over the various supernaturals that lived there.

Slate and, in turn, Derek fall under the purview of Dominic’s Second; a tall, broad man whose skin is burnt by the sun and has a wide, almost malevolently white smile that had made Derek feel _miniscule_ when meeting him. And Derek knows that he isn’t a small guy, but this man had made Derek want to bare his throat with his mere _presence_ , and he wasn’t even an _Alpha_!

Tobias - Dominic’s Second - had been who Derek spoke to when he had first passed through and who he had texted about the meeting that they were driving to now. He had been intrigued, but very stalwart on the fact that they were under the ‘graceful guest’ way of things; as long as they did not do anything that hurt or put the Pack in danger, then they were free to stay as long as they wanted. If they broke those rules, their lives were forfeit, and if they made it out of the territory, they were forbidden to come back on pain of death.

Stiles had turned a little green when Derek had told him that, but he also seemed to understand the need for such extremes in a world where the Alpha spark was stolen in a single swipe of the claws.

“But you don’t _want_ to be an Alpha again?” Stiles had questioned, tried to reason really, when they had stopped to stretch their legs and let Bean take a bathroom break. “Why are they still so on edge? I thought you said that they were friends with your mom?”

“Because I could be lying through my teeth, relying on their old bonds with my family to get close enough to Dominic to steal his spark. I think that Peter might have traveled through here during one of those times we lost track of him, which also probably didn’t help things and why I was dealing with Tobias instead of Dominic.”

Stiles sighs heavily as he steers Bean back to the car after the dog has finished his business. “You know, I _really_ wish one of the people that we deal with would be happy to see us. Just _once_.”

Derek readily agrees with that, but thinks that luck is on their side this time, as Tobias had been generally easy going when Derek has passed through. He had even mentioned that they were open to Derek running with them on the next full moon, a gentle hint that if Derek was willing, there was room in the Pack for him as well hidden in the offer.

Derek had declined the invitation and hadn’t really thought about it until Stiles had surprised him with the change in his aura. He wonders now if that should be something he _should_ start considering, more for Stiles’ sake than his own; what if whatever Stiles turns out to be is something coveted, or something that is _even more_ hunted than werewolves are? Having a stable, large Pack behind them would scare off most of the people looking to start trouble, and having the extra backup for the ones that were really out there wouldn’t hurt, either.

It’s something for him to think about for the next few days of their trip, Derek waiting until he makes his own decision about joining the Pack before asking Stiles about it. Both because he keeps forgetting that Stiles is still part of Beacon Hills, what with the stress and despair that he feared would be a permanent part of Stiles’ scent are fading more by the day, and because he figures he should wait until he decides for sure if he’s going to join before demanding if Stiles is going to as well.

The next few days are more of the same, Stiles asking every question that he possibly can about the Collins Pack and Derek answering what he could remember from the few times they had passed through. Dominic hadn’t been as settled as he was back then and hadn’t really felt comfortable leaving his territory too often, so the visits had been few and far between.

Derek lets himself believe that’s the reason that he starts scenting Stiles more often, an arm along the back of Stiles’ seat while they were eating, a lingering hand when he escorted him towards the car after a bit of sightseeing. Stiles had seemed a bit confused, but welcoming, of the touches - no doubt because he could guess that going into uncharted territory was making Derek defensive - and even went as far as to playfully suggest only getting one bed whenever they stayed in a hotel.

There were a few times that Derek seriously _considered that offer,_ but knew that this was a lot different than comforting Stiles after a nightmare and he should limit how close he got to the man.

All in all, it was a stressful few days before Derek was pulling up to the Collins’ manor, Stiles making a running commentary of if all werewolves liked homes out in the woods, if it was something that their furrier sides needed, glad at least _one_ part of their mysterious vibe stayed intact.

Of course, that thought was _immediately_ blown out of the water as soon as Bean hopped out of the car and a multitude of high pitched voices screamed “ **PUPPY**!” before a horde of small children seemed to come from _everywhere_.

Stiles jumped nearly a foot in the air, a cutoff curse of “ ** _Motherfu_ **-!” slipping from his lips before he censored himself. Derek bites back a grin as Stiles places a hand over his heart, glancing down at the dozen or so children looking at Bean and vibrating with excitement.

It takes only a moment for Stiles to realize what the kids are waiting for, looking at Derek to confirm, before nodding at the children as he unclips Bean’s leash with a cautioning “Be gentle.” He nearly trips when he tries to get around the swarming horde, making his way over to where Derek is standing and no longer trying to keep a lid on his laughter.

Bean looks like he’s in puppy heaven; he’s being petted, nuzzled, and scratched to within a inch of his life. One of the children hollers about finding a stick for the puppy, the rest of the children herding the puppy into the surrounding woods. Some of them even partially shift, little claws and fangs popping out as they answer Bean’s happy barks with howls of their own.

As quickly as the children had appeared, they’re gone, with the echoing cries bouncing off the rocks and trees .

“Holy shit.” Stiles sounds more than a little thrown, which makes Derek break into chuckles again, despite finally getting a hold on his laughter. “What the hell was _that_?”

It takes a few more minutes before Derek can answer, wiping tears from his eyes. “ _ **T**_ ** _hat_ ** was a perfect example of growing up as part of a big Pack. It’s part wild energy, part hive mind.” Stiles snorts at that, shaking his head a little. “There would always be something to do, someone to listen to what you wanted, but the times when everyone wanted to play together were the best.”

Derek knows he’s starting to sound a bit maudlin, so he’s grateful for the distraction of one of the Pack children running back to where he and Stiles are standing, skidding to a stop in front of them and giving them both a fanged grin.

“Thank you for letting us play with the puppy!”

“You’re very welcome.” Stiles gives the girl a smile of his own, looking like he was a moment away from cooing at her. “Bean sounds like he’s having a lot of fun!”

The echoing howls and barks sound like it might be a bit of a fight to get the puppy back home, so Derek nods his agreement when the girl looks at him as well. That earns them another smile before the kid decides that she has been out of the fun for long enough and darts back to the surrounding woods.

Turning towards the house, Derek isn’t surprised to see Tobias looking at the pair of them in a way that can’t be anything other than calculating. Stiles - not in possession of either a ‘wolf’s nose or hearing - startles so badly at seeing Tobias that he nearly ends up on his ass in the dirt if not for Derek’s reflexes.

Grumbling under his breath about asshole werewolves that like sneaking up on him, Stiles turns a rather deep shade of red when Tobias reminds him that those same werewolves can hear him. Pausing for only a minute, Stiles straightens his shoulders and snipes back that Tobias should take that to heart then, and make a little noise so that people who don’t have super senses aren’t falling over every time one of the wolves decide to join them.

Tobias outright _grins_ at that, shaking his head as his gaze moves from Stiles to where Derek is standing behind him, one hand still on his arm from when Derek helped Stiles up. “I’ll keep that in mind. It’ll probably be appreciated by the other humans in our Pack as well. We tend to forget about your lesser senses and treat them as if they should hear and smell everything.”

Despite the fact that Tobias said ‘lesser’, nothing in his tone or stance makes it seem as if the comment was an insult, merely an observation. Much like one would say a human has a lesser running speed than a cheetah. Derek can see Stiles relaxing ever so slightly because of that, and it makes him relax as well, moreso when Tobias pushes off of the frame of the door to gesture them in.

Exhaling sharply, Stiles bumps his shoulder against Derek’s and mutters a quiet, “You ready?” that Tobias is polite enough to pretend he doesn’t hear.

Derek reaches up and gives Stiles’ neck a quick squeeze, hoping to convey both the nervousness he also feels, but also the promise that he will have Stiles’ back if everything goes pear shaped. It works a little, because more of the tension that had been sharpening Stiles’ form fades, and he lets Derek lead him up the porch.

Tobias watches all of this with intrigued eyes, but still doesn’t say anything, heading into the house once they make it up to the porch. Stiles heaves out a huge breath and mutters, “Into the wolves’ den, I guess.” before walking inside, making sure that he doesn’t move too fast for Derek to keep his hand on the back of his neck.

Derek hums in a soothing manner - he hopes - as he keeps pace with Stiles, looking around the house as they follow Tobias’ leading form. “Does it help that you have one of the wolves on your side?”

“More than you know, big guy. More than you know.”


	11. A Family Finally Mourned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next couple of chapters may be spaced out a bit after this, but I'm gonna keep posting, don't you worry!

The trek through the house only takes a few minutes, with Tobias leading them to a sitting room with a few different couches and chairs filled with Betas that immediately look over to Derek and Stiles as soon as they enter the room.

“I will let Dominic know that you are here and are waiting for him.” Tobias nods at Derek, then Stiles, before grinning again and stating, “Try to get along with everyone and wait until I get back before getting into any fights.”

Stiles snorts at that, and a few of the Betas chuckle as well, and Tobias nods once more before leaving the room. There are a few seconds of silence before one of the Betas gets brave enough to ask why they are there.

Stiles manages to brush them off with a simple explanation that he and Derek are there to talk to Dominic and that it’s a bit of a private matter. The Beta gives a shrug, his expression saying that wasn’t really what he wanted to hear, but his question breaks the ice with the others and the subject gets changed very easily.

So far, Derek sees that he didn’t need to stress that Stiles behave while in the Collins territory; despite Stiles insisting that he ‘wasn’t up to people’ before, he seems to be getting along well enough with the Betas. He shares a few jokes with them, sniping at their jabs, and generally reminding Derek of those first months he met Stiles.

Yet, he can also tell that this is all draining Stiles the longer they sit there. Derek makes sure to pull Stiles to one of the couches in the room, settling him down on the end with the most pillows and even what looks like a handcrafted blanket. Stiles gives him a grateful smile, snuggling into the pillows and pawing at the blanket like a cat, but not quite pulling it over himself just yet.

A Beta out of Stiles’ eyeline - and hearing - mutters something about Derek puffing up worse than a peacock after that, which has Derek giving the upstart a warning growl just low enough to not draw Stiles’ attention. It makes the man laugh - which is only half good, as Derek doesn’t want any trouble, but he also doesn’t want the pup to think he can get away with that - and Stiles is trying to figure out what was going on when Dominic finally enters the room.

What Derek remembered of Dominic as a child was that he was a generally easy-going man that didn’t have the need to posture like most Alphas, more content to let his Betas make their own way, even if that way is not with him.

This does not mean that Dominic was someone that can be walked over or bent to a certain way by those stronger or smarter than him. Derek has heard - and seen - Dominic defend his boundaries from both encroaching Packs and Hunters only a bad day away from following in the Argents’ footsteps.

Granted, it has been a few years since Derek has been anywhere near the man, other than the quick meet and greet Derek did when he made his way to Slate - something that he spent more time with Tobias than Dominic himself - but he still makes both Stiles and Derek straighten when he enters the room this meeting is being held in.

It also makes Derek give Stiles’ arm a quick squeeze, a silent reminder to behave and not aggravate anyone. Not that Derek thinks he’ll be obstinate on purpose, but more that Stiles has a habit of running his mouth if anyone annoys or angers him. Stiles sighs, but gives a small nod before walking towards the Alpha and giving greetings to him and falling into easy conversation.

Now that he is closer to the man and not so focused on making a good impression, Derek can see that Dominic is an older Alpha with crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes and a sense of humor that leans itself towards jokes that make Derek miss his father. It’s a sharp, nostalgic feeling that leaves him mute and makes Stiles carry the conversation for most of the initial meeting, Stiles throwing him concerned looks every so often. Derek gives Stiles’ arm another quick squeeze, hoping that tells him that he’s fine for now, and they can talk about it later.

After the pleasantries are done, the real reason for their visit comes up and Dominic very subtly asks if Stiles would prefer his observation being done in private. To which Stiles just shakes his head and throws his arms open, telling Dominic to ‘take a nice long look’.

Complete with a _wink_.

Dominic merely raises a brow at Stiles before switching over to his wolf sight, the rest of the Betas in the room muttering a bit at this turn of events. Derek sees a few also look at Stiles through gleams of gold, making him take an almost unconscious step towards his-

Towards Stiles.

Dominic’s attention flickers past Stiles for a moment, no doubt taking stock of what caused Derek to move so, before he returns his gaze to the man in front of him. He takes one last look before blinking back to his normal green eyes. 

“Well, I must say that it has been a rather long time since anyone with a flame aura walked through my door.”

Beside Derek, Stiles goes very, _very_ still.

“I’m sorry, did you say _‘flame'_?” There is a growing scent of ozone filling the area, like someone was holding a bit of lightning in their palm, with the sensation that it was only a second away from striking. Derek wracks his brain for what could have angered Stiles so while the man continues speaking,

"As in, flames and heat and _burning_? As in a fucking **_f_** ** _ire_ ** aura?!”

It hits Derek suddenly where Stiles’ issue lies, making him shift uncomfortably and unfortunately draw Stiles' attention to the fact that he’s standing next to him instead of leaning against the far wall.

“‘It’s beautiful’, you said. ‘Like a shield or guard’, you said.” Derek is shocked to see tears in the corners of Stiles’ eyes, a metallic taste at the back of Derek’s throat as the ozone builds to headache-inducing levels. Dominic stays quiet, simply watching the interaction between the two of them with a slight furrow between his eyes.

“Why... why, after _everything_ we’ve been through, did you lie to me??”

“ ** _What_**!?” Derek rocks backwards, feeling as if Stiles had just stabbed him in the middle of the chest with a pipe. And, being in the unique position to know exactly how that feels, he can say that with the utmost sincerity, “I didn’t lie to you!”

“ _Yes, you did_!” Stiles all but screams, a crackling sound like the wood in a fire ringing through the room. “How could you say that a fucking _fire_ aura was beautiful? After _everything_ that you lost to it? That it took from you? How can you even be close to me?!”

“ ** _Because it wasn’t the fire that took my family, it was the bitch of a Hunter that lit the match_**!”

There is a ringing silence after Derek’s rebuttal, Stiles’ face completely pale excluding two flushes of red on his cheeks, and Derek is breathing heavily, fingers clenching and unclenching as he tries to calm his fluctuating emotions.

Dominic clears his throat, causing both men to jump as their gazes snap back to him, forgetting for a moment that his comment was the start of their fight. He looks a bit apologetic for that, but his focus mainly stays on Stiles as he says, “There is nothing wrong with a flame aura. Much like the fire that you spoke of, it is how it’s _wielded_ that tells if it is good or bad. I did not mean to cause distress when I spoke of your aura, merely that it had been a good long while since I’ve seen one.”

“How long?” Stiles seems to be ignoring the rest of Dominic’s speech to get information, something that makes a smile tease at the corner of Derek’s lips even as he knows that there will be more to their own ‘discussion’ later.

“Not since I was a young pup.” Dominic grins at the huff that earns him, Stiles not-very-quiet whisper of ‘It’s ‘what you call years’ all over again!’ causing that grin to widen. “That isn’t to say that I don’t know someone who could teach you how to harness that flame into a way to defend yourself.”

Once again, Stiles goes almost completely still and Dominic is moving his hands in a placating gesture when Stiles interrupts him with, “But what does it all _mean_?? You and Derek both say I have a flame aura, but **_what does that mean_**?! Am I a supernatural creature like you guys? Can I control flames? Is there some sort of parasitic flame bug inside me that is going to burst out all Alien style and try to kill everyone?”

For all that he asks the last question with a sarcastic undertone, Derek can hear the way Stiles’ heart skips when the thought crosses his mind. He presses against Stiles’ back with a low growl, pleased when Stiles presses back with a soft sigh; he’s pretty sure Stiles doesn’t even realize he made it.

“No. No chest bursting here. I can say that there would be a _bit_ more panic going around if that was the case, as well as less of us saying that this is a _good_ thing.” Dominic waves them towards a couch on the other side of the room, a few of his Betas making themselves scarce when he does so. “It’s more of a... well, did _anyone_ tell you about magical energy? About Sparks?”

“There was a vet that worked in my old hometown. Said he was a Druid, was dedicated to keeping the balance but I figured that was just cryptic for ‘don’t want to get involved.” Stiles huffs at that, dropping down onto the couch they had vacated with a heavy sigh, Derek following only a second later, trying not to react at Stiles calling Beacon his ‘old’ hometown. “He also said that I had to ‘be the spark’ to get some mountain ash to work.”

There is a thoughtful hum, then Dominic leans forward in the chair he commandeered and asks, “You say he ‘worked’ in your old hometown... Does he not still reside there? And he _never_ said anything else about your gift?”

That earns him a bark of laughter, Stiles waving away the question like a bothersome fly. “Never gave a shit about anyone outside of Scott, really. Was cryptic on a good day, downright **_frustrating_ ** when you really needed answers. Swore that he was there to help, that he was the- well...”

Stiles trails off, seeming to remember just _what_ Deaton was and it quells the rant he was building towards. Dominic’s brows raise and he turns to Derek when Stiles hangs his head and won’t meet the older man’s eyes.

“Deaton is - _was_ \- my mother’s Emissary. I didn’t really see him much growing up, so Stiles is right when he says that Deaton pretty much keeps to himself... Although, the reason I didn’t see him might be due to Laura being the one that was training to be Alpha-”

“I don’t think that’s it.” Dominic rebuts firmly, looking even more frustrated than when Stiles and Derek were yelling at each other. “An Emissary is a link between a Pack and the rest of the world, Hunters and those not in the know alike. For him to spend more time with one person, and to avoid you now in favor of someone not even of your original Pack...”

Dominic trails off, seemingly lost in thought. He gets up from his chair after a few heartbeats with a ‘Excuse me for a moment. I’ll be right back.’ before heading out the door and closing it behind him.

After a few moments, the Betas perk up when they hear Dominic speaking - which Derek tunes out as soon as he realizes that the statement is not for him - before they, too, are gone out the door.

Leaving Derek and Stiles completely alone.

Stiles almost immediately takes advantage of the quiet.

“I hope he finds something to pin on that asshole. I mean, I know that your Mom had to trust him or something, but he _always_ seemed pretty fucking shady to me. Why become a Pack’s Emissary if you were so focused on balance? I mean, there had to be times when their welfare was on the line and helping them would tip the scales one way or another. What was he gonna do **_then_** , just stand there?"

Just stand there as Derek was used as a means to bring a murdering psychopath back to life. Just stand there as a house burns to cinders, despite knowing there were more than a dozen people inside. Just _stand there_ as an innocent girl was killed, because there were far too many Packs in one place and he ‘couldn’t be sure which way the talk would go’...

Derek suddenly feels completely and utterly sick, pitching forward in a way that has Stiles calling out his name in alarm, but he just sticks his head in between his legs and tries to breathe deep.

He always thought that Deaton only fed him half truths and cryptic words that had three different meanings because he was angry Derek survived after betraying the rest of his family, despite Derek never really knowing how Deaton could have found that out when he never even told _Laura_ the truth of that night. The realization that there was another reason, a far darker one than Derek could ever have dreamed of, has him feeling like his world has twisted on its axis.

Was Deaton _really_ his mother’s Emissary, after all? Derek tracks back through his memories of the years before the fire, as dim and cloudy as they are.

There had been many times that he had wanted to speak to his mother, or even his sister, only to be told by Deaton that they needed to focus on more important matters than a single Beta’s woes. Laura had giggled at that, teenage years making her one of those very woes, and Derek stopped trying to talk to his mother when Deaton or Laura was around after that.

When Paige happened, Derek had spent many days keeping to himself, not trusting his Uncle anymore and feeling like all he did was bother his mother. Deaton had shown his first hint at _actually_ caring about him when he had made mention of using exercise to work his body so much that his mind quietened, suggesting running, biking, swim-

Derek’s head jerks up, startling Stiles into falling backwards and almost off the couch. He is just opening his mouth - no doubt to yell at Derek for scaring him so badly - but his tirade dies in a strange gurgling sound when Derek states, “I think Deaton put me in Kate’s crosshairs.”

Closing his eyes at the silence, Derek isn’t surprised that the next thing out of Stiles’ mouth is a shrieking, “ ** _What?_** ” that threatens to rattle the windows in their frames.

“After- after what happened with Paige, I wasn’t in the best headspace. Everyone knew my eyes had changed, but didn’t know _why_. They had heard rumors and myths of how a ‘wolf gains blue eyes, so they were hesitant to spend any time with me... One day, while I was out in the Preserve, Deaton showed up and wanted to talk to me. I was _so grateful_ to have someone to talk to, that I didn’t think to wonder why he decided to talk to me _now_ , when he made every effort to push me _away_.”

Stiles makes a low, pained noise and Derek opens his eyes to see him sitting only a few inches away, hands hovering over Derek like he isn’t sure how to help but he _desperately_ wants to. Derek whines in response, which seems to break whatever stasis that Stiles was under, the younger man wrapping his arms around Derek’s shoulders and humming in sympathy.

“He was... he said that he _understood_ why I was so out of sorts. That my mother- my mother had told him what I had done and that she asked him to- to help me deal with it." Derek lets out a low laugh, more an expulsion of air than anything humorous. "The bastard knew just how to hurt me, making me think that _my own mother_ was so ashamed of me that she sent someone else to help me _deal_ with my feelings."

“Fucking piece of shit.” Stiles mutters angrily, his tightening embrace and the fingers that are now running through Derek’s hair telling him that Stiles means Deaton and not Derek.

“He said that he had been through ‘a tough time’ himself, that he could _understand_ how all I wanted was for some way to get back to how things were before, that he had been in a _similar situation_. I was _so eager_ to hear how he had managed to make it past whatever it was that had ostracized him, how he managed to make it back to having his family love him again.”

“Derek...” Stiles rubs his cheek against Derek’s hair, almost as if he’s trying to offer that lost boy some comfort despite the years between them. Derek presses his face against Stiles’ throat, understanding now what he had meant when Stiles said that he _needed_ to get the story out, to stop the way that it festers and blackens his memories.

“I was practically eating out of his hand at this point, halfway into his fucking _lap_ and reaching for him with eager hands. He patted my head, like I was a fucking _puppy_ , and said he would talk with my mother about how to slowly let the Pack know what happened and that it would be good for me to try to get a hobby to quiet my mind when it tried to make me question things. Maybe _running_? Or _biking_? He had heard that I had fun at the pool one summer, maybe I should go **_swimming._ **”

The last words are practically a snarl, which makes Stiles jump a little, but he only moves so that they are looking at each other, hands tight on Derek’s arms. It teathers him, keeping Derek in the here and now, instead of falling headfirst into his memories and the burning _shame_ that lies there.

“I _did_ like to swim. The pull of the water around my body, the muffled silence that falls over you when you go underwater... If Kate hadn’t already killed my love for the water, I would’ve been more pissed at what happened with the kanima. As it was, I was just resigned that something _else_ had happened at that fucking pool.”

Stiles huffs out a sound that Derek would call ‘wry amusement’ if he had to name it, a recognition and agreement on the amount of things that happened at that school. Derek isn’t sure if they should get it checked out for curses, or just set the whole thing on fire and be done with it.

“She was good, though; didn’t approach me directly, gave me just enough attention to make me want to work for it, and treated me like I was just a regular kid. She would comment on my backstroke and ask me if I was on the swimming team, getting to know little bits and pieces of my home life as she went from one topic to the next.” Derek shakes his head as he thinks of how _eager_ he was to talk to someone, so _desperate_ for even the _slightest_ bit of attention, “I began spending more and more time at the pool, uncaring now about how the smell of the cleaning chemicals completely burned out my nose. I had someone that _wanted_ to spend time with me, that **_talked_ ** to me. I could deal with an itchy nose for that.”

Derek has been focused on his lap the entire time that they - well, more _he_ \- have been talking. His hands are clenched in front of him, Stiles’ are rubbing soothing waves over Derek’s arms. There was a time that he fantasized about those hands, imagined _all kinds_ of dirty things they would do to him and then completely _hated_ himself afterward.

He likes this, though.

“Eventually, after a few months of seeing her at the pool, I ‘happened’ to bump into her on a ‘date’ in town. The guy, which was probably one of her lackeys, was being a grade A asshole and it made me _so mad_ on her behalf. I stomped right over to where they were sitting and _growled_ at the guy that he was with someone _really special_ and that he _better_ start **_treating her that way_**. The guy muttered something about Kate not being worth the trouble and left her there. Left her conveniently ‘alone and unknowing of a strange town’.”

“Derek.” Stiles’ tone has become soft and comforting, but Derek just shakes his head. He doesn’t want comforting right now. Maybe at a later date, but right now he can’t help but hate how naive he was, how easy it was for Kate to get to him.

“I offered to cover her meal, even said that I would sit with her so she didn’t have to be there alone. She made a show of hesitating, but eventually agreed. We got a few looks, but Kate acted just the same as at the pool, so people eventually stopped caring that an older woman was eating with a younger boy. We finished our meal and sat there talking before Kate made as if to touch me.”

Derek finally lifts his head to look Stiles in the eye, the younger man’s gaze wide and full of so much emotion that Derek almost feels lost in them. It takes him a moment to remember what it was he was going to say, his words almost falling out of his lips in his need to make Stiles understand.

“My Pack was _still_ acting skittish around me during this time, Deaton kept telling me that letting the Pack in on what happened needed to be taken care of _very_ delicately. That my mother _still_ thought that I was important, but _needed_ to focus on our borders and allies right now. I hadn’t been really scented for **_weeks_ ** and- and-”

“Shhh.” Stiles’ voice is almost a hum from his chest, hands once more reaching out and cupping Derek’s face. He tugs Derek forward slightly, just enough so that their foreheads are pressed together. “It’s alright. I get it. You don’t need to explain. _None_ of this was your fault, do you hear me? **_None of it_**.”

They’re words that Stiles has said before, words that Derek always wanted to not only hear, but trust enough in the person saying them to _believe it_.

It doesn’t stop him from trying to explain, though.

“Kate must have been trained to see when a ‘wolf was in need of scenting, or she did some digging on my family before she showed up, because after she made to touch me and stopped, she made a big fuss about needing to leave, that this was a mistake and that she needed to go before people talked. I was... I felt _unmoored_ , like I had been set adrift, and I followed her out of the diner. _I_ followed _her_.”

Stiles is shaking his head, opening and closing his mouth like he’s looking for the right thing to say, but Derek is getting to the hard part and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to get past it if he’s stopped now.

“Her car was parked around the edge of a building, right in the blind spot of where two cameras cross. As soon as I made it to her she-” Derek swallows, breathes in deep so that the scent of petrichor, ozone, and cinnamon fill his nose. “She kissed me. Practically _assaulted my mouth_. Whispered that she felt _so much_ for me, despite our ‘different views on life’. That people would try to split us up, because they thought they knew what was best for us. That this had to stay a secret, because it was precious and **_ours_** _._ ”

Derek finally pulls away from Stiles and begins pacing the room, so overcome with the need to run and hide until the danger is gone that his beta shift is slipping over his features, fangs slurring his words and making it hard to talk.

“She kept _touching me_ through all of this, barely there caresses, but enough for my scent-starved mind to go absolutely fucking **_stupid_**. I agreed with everything she had said, promising to wash thoroughly after meeting her so that no one would smell her perfume, wanting another caress like an addict needed his hit. I _knew_ I wasn’t ready for sex when we started, but by then I was too far under her spell to say no, ignoring the uncomfortableness I felt just to have another person’s scent on my skin for a few hours.”

Stiles makes another low noise, pulling Derek’s attention to him again. He’s now curled up on the couch, hands over his mouth, and looking absolutely disgusted by what Derek is saying. Derek doesn’t blame him, he’s pretty disgusted with himself as well.

“I thought I was in _love_. That Kate was my _second chance_ , that it was so _easy_ with her was because she was an _adult_ and just _knew_ things. I- I told her what I was pretty early on into our ‘relationship’, **_terrified_ ** that I would lose someone else I cared about if I didn’t. She acted shocked, but understanding. Cautious about my ‘desires’, but more than willing to let me ‘experiment’. It wasn’t until years later that I realized that everything I thought I wanted, she just goaded me into.”

Stiles hasn’t moved through Derek’s confession, expression horrified and countenance pale, so Derek tells the very last bit of betrayal to the floor, even as something lightens in his chest at _finally_ setting this whole story free.

“I had invited her to my house one night, after giving her a few things to cover her scent with my own. She spent the whole time giggling, which I thought was _adorable_ , that she was feeling the same thing I was: the rush of doing something forbidden, of having someone I cared about in the place where I grew up. She was probably giddy that I just handed her the keys to her master plan.”

Derek looks up at the ceiling, praying that the tears burning in his eyes don’t fall, that he can get through this without choking on the guilt, loss, and _shame_ that always follows these particular sets of memories.

“I wanted _so much_ to impress her, to show her that I was more than just some kid in a big family. I started pointing out all the special entrances and exits we had set up, backup plans for every emergency known to man. I was _proud_ when I showed her the tunnels out of the house, _bragged_ about how we would be _safe_ and she just ate it all up like it was fucking candy.”

Closing his eyes, Derek concedes to the fight against his tears and mutters, “Well, you know the rest, don’t you? I was at an away game, Laura was my chaperone, and twelve people died in a ‘mysterious fire’ that Kate told me in a text that she hoped turned me feral so she could have the pleasure of hunting me down to kill me.”

There’s a choked sound at that, and the scent of saltwater, but Derek doesn’t open his eyes. He can’t. He just admitted to his most shameful secret. Yes, Stiles had already said that he had guessed that there was something more to Derek’s relationship with Kate, but it was another thing to _confirm_ it.

There’s a few sniffles, a short exhale, and then the pad of feet across the hardwood floor. Derek keeps his eyes closed, but braces himself for whatever condemnation Stiles throws at him. He wasn’t lying when he said he knew that the fire was Kate’s fault, but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t still his guilt at making it all so easy for her to fulfill her plan.

The gentle touch to his cheek is so startling that Derek jerks away, eyes flying open to see Stiles standing there with an expression that causes Derek to whine in sympathy, immediately moving forward again in an almost useless attempt to find out what’s wrong and _fix it_.

Stiles uses that to grab a hold of his face again, hands framing his head, and a fierce expression that is only slightly softened by the tears in his eyes. Derek fights the want to have Stiles always look at him this way, like he’s _important_ and _worth_ knowing, the power of it leaving Derek feeling scraped open and _raw_.

“You listen to me, Derek Sourwolf Hale. You were a _child_ when Kate got her claws into you. A child that had just gone through something _horrible_ due to your asshole of an Uncle’s manipulation, and was left to his own devices because of some **_other_ ** asshole’s manipulations.” Stiles shakes his head, thumbs rubbing soothing motions over Derek’s cheeks as he continues. “The fact that you are still standing, still facing the world, is _fucking_ **_amazing_**. What you just told me is proof of just how much you are _a good person_. Kate was a fucking **_despicable_ ** human being, preying on a young, hurt boy and you _still_ feel guilty for letting her get to you. It’s not your fault, Derek! It’s _her_ fault, it’s _Deaton’s_ fault... Hell, I will even go as far as to say it’s also a little bit **_Talia’s_ ** fault as well, both as a mother _and_ as an Alpha not realizing how hurt one of her Betas were!”

Derek opens his mouth, to refute Stiles’ claims or defend his mother he isn’t sure, but Stiles covers his mouth before he can speak. Stiles’ eyes are still earnest and sure, even with tear tracks running down his cheeks, and Derek can’t do anything except listen to what he has to say.

“Do you remember when you asked if I trusted you?”

Derek nods.

“Well, do _you_ trust _me_?”

Another nod, this time with Derek trying to pull away so that he can tell Stiles _how much_ he trusts him. Stiles keeps his grip on Derek, though, and he doesn’t want to hurt him, so Derek doesn’t really pull that hard.

That might have been the better choice, in the end. Derek isn’t sure if either of them are ready to hear that just yet.

Still, Stiles seems to get at least the gist of what Derek is trying to do, because he gives him a small smile and says, “Then trust me now; _nothing_ that Kate did, or manipulated you into doing, was _your fault_. She was an _adult_ , you were a _child_. I don’t care if you say that you should’ve known better, or if her manipulations were so obvious you should have seen them for what they were. That’s **_bullshit_**. You were _hurting_ , you were _alone_ , all you wanted was someone to care and she **_used that_**.”

The tears start flowing again, but Derek doesn’t mind that Stiles sees them this time. “I- I just miss them. _So_ **_much_** **.** ”

Derek allows himself to be pulled into the hug, burrowing into Stiles’ shoulder and pressing them down onto the floor. He weeps for all that he lost, the Pack that he swore that he hated and was annoyed by, the sister that he thought was overbearing, and even the Uncle that was once his best friend.

He even howls for the Pack that he made himself; the strong Boyd, whose silence hid the longing in his heart for friends, the sassy Erica, who was tired of being overlooked and forgotten unless it was at her expense, and the troubled Isaac, who was only faithful to those that did not betray his trust.

He’s sure that he’s trembling now, mourning everything that he pushed aside for making it through just one more day, there would be time to speak of them later, just make it through this fight _first._..

He howls his anger at never being able to show his Betas what it was like to be a Pack in _peace_.

He cries out his sorrow at never telling Laura how much she meant to him, both as a sister and later under the mantle of Alpha, something she wasn’t even close to prepared for.

He mourns the loss of _both_ his Packs, of his innocence, ripped away by Kate’s red lipped smile.

And through it all, Stiles holds him - steady, sure, _unwavering_ \- and whispers soothing words that gentle the ache in his chest and weariness in his bones.

“It’s gonna be okay, I’m here, I’ve got you. Let it out, no one’s judging you. When was the last time you could really cry, huh, big guy? That’s it, just let it go...”

Derek clings to him almost desperately, the only port of calm in the raging storm his emotions are right now. He has no idea what he would do if he lost this, but he’s going to hold onto it as tight as he possibly can, while he can.


	12. Understanding the Silence

When Derek finally lifts his head again, Stiles has moved them over to the couch and is softly talking to a random Beta as his fingers scratch through Derek’s hair. His other hand is rubbing up and down Derek’s back, the calm and soothing rhythm almost pushing Derek back into sleep, but he moves out of Stiles’ lap to greet the Beta in the room.

She’s very friendly, says nothing about the fact that she found them with Derek obviously in no fit state to be sociable, and only informs them that Dominic has put aside a room - or rooms, if they so choose - for them to use and that dinner is being prepared if they are hungry before giving them both a nod and leaving.

Derek fights a blush when he realizes how late it’s become, guessing that Dominic or one of his Betas no doubt came back at one point to tell them about what made them leave, but heard Derek losing his shit and decided to stay out of it. It makes Derek start to tense up and pull away from Stiles, but he is having _none_ of that.

He tugs Derek back against his chest and mutters, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“They- they probably heard what I- or at least _part_ of what I said-”

“-and then they realized that what was going down was none of their business and left to take care of things that were.” Stiles interjects, tone telling Derek that there would be no arguing with him on this. “Shelly didn’t seem to think that you needing to take a few after unloading something that you had been carrying - far too long, if you ask me - was anything to be embarrassed about, so why should you?”

Wondering for a moment who Shelly could be, before realizing that she must’ve been the Beta that just left, Derek relaxes just a bit back into Stiles’ hold. He supposes that Stiles _does_ have a point; all of the ‘wolves that they have interacted with so far have been nothing but respectful to them, so he really shouldn’t be so defensive about how he acts in their territory. Their prior encounters with Alphas have made Derek more on edge than he should be, it will take a little while for him to relax again.

“How are you feeling?”

Biting back on the instinctive reaction to tell Stiles that he was fine, Derek actually takes stock of his body before answering.

“A little tired. Worn out, but in a good way? Like when I’ve gone for a long run and pushed myself. Which is ridiculous, considering all I did was stand there and cry like a- **OW**!”

Derek twists his head to glare up at Stiles, who has his hand out like he’s a minute away from pinching Derek on the hip again.

“ ** _None_ ** of that. You didn’t let me beat myself up after I told you about my terrors, I’m not going to let _you_ beat yourself up about this! It was _long_ overdue and you are going to learn how to forgive yourself even if it takes until you’re old and grey and I’m smacking you with a cane when you slip!”

A warm heat infuses Derek’s chest at the casual way Stiles says that, the almost throwaway comment that _he’ll still be there_ when they’re far past their prime. Derek tries to tell himself that Stiles doesn’t really mean it like that, that he was just exaggerating his point like always, but his heart isn’t listening as it thumps happily away.

He’s just about to say something, but then there is a loud gurgling sound and Stiles’ face turns bright red as he coughs out an apology. Derek doesn’t have time to say that it’s not needed before his stomach _also_ lets out a rumble, almost as if it was answering the call for food Stiles’ stomach made.

Laughing a little despite his own red cheeks, Derek pushes off the couch before reaching out a hand to let Stiles up as well.

“Come on, all that talking obviously made us pretty hungry. I don’t know about you, but I can smell what they’re cooking and it smells _delicious_.”

Stiles allows himself to be pulled to his feet, exaggeratedly lifting his head and breathing in deep, a happy noise of delight leaving him when he also catches the aromas floating through the air.

“Oh, yeah, that’s gonna be some _good_ food. Come on, Sourwolf! Your sniffer is better than mine! Help me find the kitchen!”

Using their still joined hands, Stiles begins tugging Derek in a vague direction, giving exaggerated sniffs and basically acting like a goofy hunting dog. Derek shakes his head, takes another deep breath, and tugs on Stiles’ hand to get his attention.

“It’s this way.”

Stiles grins at him before a look of surprise overtakes his features when his gaze drops to their interlaced fingers. There is a long pause of quiet, where Derek fights not to shift or give any indication that he wants this to go one way or the other, before Stiles gives their hands a squeeze as he begins tugging Derek in the direction that he pointed out.

“Onward to deliciousness, Derek! I need feeding, like, _pronto_! I may not look it, but this physique _needs_ nourishment that isn’t gas station munchies and soda!”

Snorting, Derek follows along where Stiles pulls him, only correcting his course every now and again. Soon enough, the sound of a hungry Pack reaches their ears and Stiles’ pace picks up as he happily makes his way towards actual, real, _homemade_ food.

There is a slight lull when they enter the kitchen, a few Betas calling out greetings to Stiles, but not much beyond a few curious looks. Derek is grateful for that, as he _still_ feels embarrassed meeting Shelly’s eyes, as she was the one that saw him curled up in Stiles’ lap like a pup in the middle of their first storm.

“Derek! Stiles! Come get some food before the rest of this unruly horde devours everything in sight!”

Stiles laughs before heading toward whoever called out, hand slipping out from Derek’s, making the wolf rub his fingers on his palm as he follows, trying to catch the heat left behind as he sternly tells himself to get a grip before someone smells the desperation on him.

Thankfully, Stiles doesn’t take too long with the food, balancing two full plates over to where Derek is standing. Making a noise that is both thanks and admonishment for not just grabbing his own plate, Derek relieves Stiles of half his burden and herds him to the nearest empty chair.

Stiles allows himself to be led, picking various things off of the plate, words and questions flowing in between bites. For a moment, Derek thinks that Stiles is speaking to _him_ , but after doing a double take, he sees that _Tobias_ is walking to the side of Stiles and is watching him with a bemused smile. He’s doing his own grazing, waiting until Stiles stops to breathe or eat something to answer him, telling history and myths as they settle themselves.

Tobias is just explaining the various differences between the werewolf origins, as well as how to spot the tells that show that the story was from a real ‘wolf instead of some writer, when a cacophony of noise interrupts him.

It takes a moment to make out, as the horde of children have started running through the room, but it seems like one of them finished eating before the others and has thus claimed Bean for some more playtime before bed. Many of the other children have disagreed with this, arguing that it wasn’t fair that one of them got to play with the puppy more than the others.

Derek decides to cut off the argument when he hears the growling and sees more than one flash of fang in a way that does _not_ indicate play; taking a moment to pinpoint where Bean is in the middle of this chaos, Derek walks over and picks up the puppy and moves back to where he was sitting to a chorus of whines, one even coming from the pup in his arms.

“If you all can’t play nicely _together_ , then _none_ of you will play with the puppy.”

Derek keeps his stance stern, despite the pleading looks he gets, as well as the fact that some of the younger ones look like they’re about to cry. Thankfully, parents and guardians gather the kids up to distract them with other games and activities, Stiles letting out a snort as the last child is herded out the door.

“Well, aren’t you just a little Socialpuppy, aren’t you?” Stiles reaches out and gives Bean a few quick pats, the pup’s tail drumming out a happy beat against Derek’s side as he reclaims his seat. “And **_you_**! Could you sound _more_ like a Dad?!”

Feeling the heat infusing his cheeks, Derek focuses on petting and relaxing Bean after almost a full day of playing with a horde of children. His actions earn him some cooing from Stiles, but he doesn’t press any further than that and that seems to unhinge the tension from Derek’s jaw.

“Back before... Well, **_before_** , I usually minded the pups- the kids in the house. Whenever there was a gathering, or someone came to ask my Mom something, I usually ended up taking care of any children that came with the Pack. It wasn’t- I didn’t _have_ to do it, we were encouraged to take turns, so that all of us had time to get to know our neighbors and allies, but... I don’t know, there was something that always made me seek the kids out and I guess that I learned a few things on how to deal with them during that time.”

“That’s because you are a huge _fluffball_ , Sourwolf. Once someone makes it past your grumpy exterior, you’re nothing but cuddles and marshmallow fluff.” Stiles quips, his expression soft despite his teasing words. It’s only barely better than the scent of sympathetic sorrow and low noise Tobias made when Derek began speaking of his family.

“I guess that’s a lot better than _you_ ; once you get past the sarcasm, there’s just _more_ sarcasm!”

Stiles lets out an indignant noise at that, pointing out that there were _plenty_ of times when he was gentle with people. Derek laughs and asks if he still thinks that making people parade around half naked in order to get what was needed counted as ‘gentle’. Stiles turns a rather vivid shade of red at that before sputtering for a few minutes, giving Derek time to let Bean down so that he can start eating, Stiles finally getting his voice back to squeak that what Derek was talking about happened _years_ ago and it was extremely bad form to be bringing it up _now_.

The back and forth leads the atmosphere back to content and amused instead of the upset that it was after Derek initially spoke. There is much food eaten and plenty of stories told, both Derek and Stiles trading some of the tamer ones, teasing each other about how _stubborn_ they were and how they _didn’t listen_ , things that seem so stupid in hindsight but were of the utmost importance at the time.

The rest of the evening passes thus, with the Betas making their way to their beds one by one, until it’s only Dominic, Tobias, Derek and Stiles sharing one last drink before they head up to bed.

Dominic stretches out with a soft sigh, leaning back a bit in his seat and taking a long drink of something deep red, the smell strong enough to burn Derek’s nose from where he’s sitting.

“I must say, I’m a little surprised at all that the pair of you have been through, especially considering that this was without a proper Emissary to aid you.”

Stiles makes a low growling noise in his throat, something that makes Derek shift in his seat, Tobias throwing him a knowing smirk at Derek’s glare. Stiles thankfully doesn’t seem to have noticed, leaning towards Dominic as Derek silently snarls at Tobias behind him.

“Does this mean that you found something? Is that the reason that you left so suddenly before? What was it? Can we use it to bring that asshole down a few pegs?!”

Dominic lets out a light chuckle, smiling softly at Stiles as he almost absentmindedly asks, “Do you ever run out of questions?” before he shakes his head. “Yes, it had something to do with Deaton. Yes, that was the reason that I left so abruptly. I had remembered something that was told to me and I needed to check it against some information I had. I believe that it will do far more than ‘bring him down a peg’, but there is something that is-”

A shake of Dominic’s head tugs Derek’s attention from his staring match with the man’s Second. Dominic’s brow is furrowed and his attention is more focused on Derek than Stiles now, making Derek straighten from the slouch that he had slowly fallen into.

“My Betas mentioned hearing a bit of what you were speaking of before they realized that it was a private affair. I can tell you that this Deaton was not the Emissary for the Hale Pack, at least not from any papers that I have on our treaties and talks. And I keep _very_ good paperwork.”

That last comment gets a single ‘ha’ from Tobias, obviously something that was a kind of inside joke for the Collins Pack. Dominic’s grin at his Second only reinforces that thought, with Stiles giving his own sarcastic noise beside the pair and drawing their attention to him.

“So what did this paperwork tell you? And why did it take more than _ten years_ for anyone to bring this forward?”

Derek punches Stiles’ shoulder for that last bit, making the younger man glare at him, but he doesn’t want to test the Collins’ hospitality when their interactions so far have been amiable. Mouthing a quick ‘ _behave_ ’ at Stiles’ sulky look, Derek turns back to see Dominic drop his gaze to the floor, his body slumping in a way that looks foreign on the Alpha’s frame.

“Your friend has a point. There are many that failed you and your family after the fire, Derek Hale. The truth of the matter is that fire filled the rest of the supernatural community with an unprecedented fear; a prominent and large family, pillars of their town, nearly _completely wiped out_ in a single night. It made many of us batten down our own hatches, fearful that we were going to be next in the Argent’s killing spree. Our silence may as well have endorsed what those Hunters did.”

Dominic raises his gaze and meets Derek’s before tilting his head ever-so-slightly, baring his neck to the Beta in front of him. His action makes Stiles gasp and almost fall out of his chair, with both Tobias and Derek tensing up, but Derek is sure their reasons are as different as possible.

“I cannot even _begin_ to try to show how sorry I am that I did not speak out against what was clearly a targeted attack at your Pack, content with cowering in my own safe den instead of trying to help a pair of Betas that did not just lose their entire Pack, but their **_family_ ** as well. I hope that what I tell you helps you find it in yourself to forgive me.”

“You had your own family to care for-”

“And what was I teaching them by allowing the Argents’ atrocities to stand?” Dominic asks, cutting off Derek’s attempt to lower the rising tensions. “That Hunters mowing down their fellows is perfectly fine as long as they don’t _personally_ know them? That as long as we don’t _agree_ with what the Hunters are doing, we don’t need to worry about _who_ they’re hurting, the families _slaughtered and tortured_ , the supernaturals left _broken and alone_ , **_if they are even left alive at all_ **??”

“Dominic...” Tobias’ voice is low and soothing, hand reaching out and lowering the glass that Dominic was waving around in his anger. “No one is arguing against you, old friend. It was a terrible thing to happen, worse that our actions were to hide instead of stand together. We are doing all that we can to fix our past mistakes. _Breathe_.”

Dominic has fallen forward onto his Second’s shoulder during these words and his body shakes like he might be crying, but Derek doesn’t smell any tears. It only lasts a few moments before he once more raises his head and speaks to Derek in a voice rough with all of the emotion that just transpired.

“I remember seeing you, when you were younger than my own Henry. I had just come out of a meeting with Talia and you were sitting in the shade of the house, watching as your fellow Pack members played in the yard. I can recall wondering why you had not joined them, why you were not rough housing and hunting with the rest of your family, and had just taken a step towards you when you turned to the side to pick up the child there that slipped my notice.”

“Emma.” Derek answers, an old ache flaring to life between his ribs, the dull thrum of a young bond broken before its time. “She was two.”

“And utterly human. I could tell by the way that you handled her, as if cradling a cloud of smoke, certain one wrong move would make it disappear.” Dominic swallows down the last of his drink, before reaching for something on the table in front of him. It turns out to be a rather thick folder and he holds it out for Derek to take, but Derek can only flinch when Stiles - who he had forgotten was still in the room - snatches it up and immediately begins to look through the contents.

“I am sorry that you lost them, that I was allowed to see Henry grow up, watch my sweet Jocelyn, troublesome Heath, and quiet Jasper start their own families. I’m sorry that my silence saved them but condemned Emma’s string to get cut so short without any recompense.” Dominic is once more leaning against Tobias, hand coming up to cover his face and making the last bit of his speech a bit muffled. “I can only hope that this helps bring them some peace, that you have less of a burden to carry for it.”

“Alright, I think that’s enough talk of the past and our inactions.” Tobias pulls Dominic to his feet easily, the older man leaning on him like all of his strength has left him after that last declaration. “It’s clear that I should have cut you off a few drinks ago, old friend. Let’s get you into bed before you fall asleep right here on the kitchen floor.”

Dominic mutters something that sounds suspiciously like ‘wouldn’t be the first time’ as Tobias pauses to ask if Derek knows where their rooms are. Derek lets him know that one of the Betas told him where they were settled, and thanks him for their hospitality.

Then there is nothing but the hum of the refrigerator and papers flipping as Stiles continues to read through whatever was in the folder in his hands, a furrow in his brow deepening the longer he reads.

“Stiles?”

This time it is Stiles that jumps, papers sliding as he presses the folder against his chest, much like a child trying to hide something they weren’t supposed to be seeing from a parent. It makes Derek smile a little as Stiles realizes just who it was that spoke.

“Can... can we just go to bed? Can we deal with whatever that’s in there in the morning?”

Stiles swallows as he nods, not even looking as he shuts the folder, papers still sticking out of the edges and no doubt utterly disorganized by now. Derek feels a swell of affection at the action and has to turn around to lead Stiles towards where their rooms are situated, only pausing to scoop Bean up from under the table where the pup has been napping, before he does something stupid.

Like kiss Stiles and admit to everything that the man makes him feel.

Their rooms are located at the back of the house, one right across from the other, and Derek feels grateful that someone thought to the unease that he might be feeling at being in another’s territory; he’s not in the upper stories, which would have made him feel trapped, and he has the closest room to him occupied by his-

By _Pack_.

“Have a good night, Stiles.” Derek wants to ask, to beg even, for Stiles to stay with him. To have someone close after everything that happened this day, all the secrets that have come to light and all the old burdens that have been lifted, only to have new burdens placed in their stead.

But that would be selfish. After all, the main reason they even traveled here was to get help for _Stiles_ , to figure out what his new aura means. It would make him be exactly the kind of asshole that Stiles playfully says he is if Derek tried to make this trip about _him_.

Nodding once, Derek sets Bean down on the floor as he turns and goes to enter his room, already preparing himself for a sleepless night. He only gets a few steps when there is a tug on his shirt sleeve.

Feeling a surge of emotion, and a bit of nostalgia, Derek looks down at the hand on his arm and then back up to Stiles’ face. The similarities to a moment in Stiles’ Jeep ends there, though, as Stiles meets his gaze steadily and keeps his hand where it is.

“I- I don’t think that-” Stiles turns his head to the side and blows out a heavy breath before looking back at Derek, amber eyes glinting as he states, “I don’t want to sleep alone tonight, after everything we heard and learned. Do you?”

Derek shakes his head, shifting his arm from under Stiles’ hand in order to lace their fingers together. With the barest of tugs, Derek leads Stiles to the place set aside for him.

It’s a plain room, no posters or photos on the walls, with only a single bed along one side. It smells of dust and a bit of freshener, with only the slightest hints of the Collins in the air. The bareness of the scents show that there has been barely anyone in here, aside from perhaps a Beta or two for the sole purpose of cleaning it.

The trace amounts of scent soothe Derek, even more so when Stiles follows him in and immediately places the folder on a side table before heading over to the bed. He then takes a deep breath before the clink of a belt fills the room, making Derek pull his gaze from the slimness of Stiles’ frame over to a random window in the room and the forest he can see through it.

There is a bit of rustling before Stiles calls out for Derek’s attention, his skin a pale shimmer in the fading light of the room as he motions for Derek with a nod of his head. Bean makes his own sleepy woof in the back of his throat, already situated at where Stiles’ feet would be.

Exhaling heavily, Derek’s hands go to his own belt buckle, earning him an almost inaudible noise from Stiles as he also turns away from Derek undressing, shifting over onto his side. Derek joins him on the bed after dropping his pants next to Stiles’, pulling the covers over himself and shifting so that he is also on his side.

It’s not the sleeping position that he would have wished for, that being the way that they had lain after he helped Stiles calm down after his nightmare, but both of them are here - and Bean is as well - so Derek can’t really complain. The minute shifting that Stiles is doing, some so slight that Derek has to really focus to even feel, tells him that there is something on the other man’s mind and that he will hear about it soon enough anyway.

Surprisingly, it’s not words that Stiles is fighting with, but actions; after an indeterminate amount of time spent shifting and shuffling, Stiles finally huffs out an exasperated breath and moves his body in a way that has Derek begin to look over to see what is bothering him. He is stopped by Stiles’ arm being thrown over his shoulders, a huff of breath ghosting over the back of Derek’s neck, making him shiver as Stiles presses in so much that every exhale makes his chest touch Derek’s back.

“Is this... is this okay?” Stiles stretches out his hand, fingers splayed over Derek’s chest and undoubtedly feeling the way that Derek's heart is pounding away under his palm. “I just- I thought that you might need it, after everything and you didn’t seem to mind it earlier... Not to mention, you did the same thing to me when I had that nightmare and I thought- I had hoped that it might help you the same way that it helped me and-”

Stiles’ words start to trail off as Derek swallows a few times, trying to rid his throat of the lump there so that he can speak. Unfortunately, even that second of silence is too much time, as Stiles has already started to pull away. It makes Derek snatch at the retreating wrist and pull Stiles even closer, fearful that his hesitance will send Stiles all the way back to his own room.

“Oooookaaaayyyy.” Stiles drags the word out as he settles against Derek’s back, flexing his arm a bit, making Derek loosen his grip just enough that Stiles once more splays his hand over Derek’s chest. “I’m thinking that your grabbing means yes? I wasn’t sure and didn’t want to push. You hadn’t said anything, so I was worried that you didn’t-”

“I do.” Derek insists, lightly squeezing the wrist he still has in his grasp, earning him a hum against the back of his neck that has him closing his eyes in an attempt to calm himself. “I- I was just trying to figure out how to say so without making it seem all about me. We came here for _you_ , Stiles, this was supposed to help _you_ figure things out, not have me dump all my bad memories at your feet.”

“I thought we agreed that we were here for _each other,_ Sourwolf.” There is a poke to Derek’s side with each word, Stiles undeterred by the growl that Derek lets out in warning. “I don’t mind you asking for things, Derek. You do it so rarely and I hate that you think it’s something that I would be angry at you for. I mean, yes, if you asked that we suddenly go on a murdering spree, I’d be more than a little shocked, but I would make sure to ask you _why_ before I sent you to the insane asylum.”

“With everything that’s happened to us, I’m a little surprised that neither of us have cracked yet.”

Derek’s comment earns him a huff of breath from Stiles, something that’s halfway between a snort and a laugh. “I’m not so sure that we _haven’t_ , big guy.”

Swallowing hard, Derek decides to take a bit of a risk; Stiles _had_ said that he didn’t mind him asking for things, maybe he would be okay with Derek _saying_ them as well...?

Reaching up to wrap a hand around Stiles’ wrist, Derek focuses on the wall opposite them as he whispers, “Well, if this is all just a hallucination, it isn’t such a bad one, is it?”

There is a few seconds of silence before Stiles hand tightens in Derek’s shirt and he presses close enough so that his body is one long line of heat along Derek’s back.

“It isn’t a bad one at _all_.”


	13. The Meaning of Pack

Derek isn’t surprised that his sleep is filled with intermittent nightmares after everything, faceless and shapeless forms floating through his mind’s eye, whispering accusations and vile promises. It isn’t enough to wake him, or even his bedmates, before he slowly shifts away from the rising sun the next day, hit with a sudden feeling of being watched.

Keeping his body very still, Derek takes in a discrete breath, listening for any kind of movement. He hears it after only a second, the soft pattering of footsteps, relaxing his tense frame enough to open his eyes.

He is greeted by two pairs of eyes staring back at him, one blue, the other green. Their owners can’t be more than six years old, one blond and the other ebony haired, siblings going by the smell, and they almost immediately begin speaking as soon as they notice Derek is awake.

“Papa Dominic said that we couldn’t ask to play with the puppy until you were awake.” The first one states, blinking rapidly in a way that is either because she is trying to look cute, or because her ebony hair keeps falling into her eyes as she bounces on her feet, “But you’re awake _now_ , so can we play with him??”

“Papa Dominic said that he had to be awake and _in the kitchen_ , Susan.” The blond corrects, even though his eyes keep flickering over to where Bean is watching the proceedings, tail wagging lightly every time someone looks at him. “He’s not in the kitchen, he’s still in bed!”

“But his heart has been doing the awake thump for _a long time_. He should be out of bed now, Charles! He’s just being lazy!”

There’s a bit of muffled laughter against his neck, letting Derek know that Stiles is _also_ awake, as Charles admonishes his sister for talking that way about a guest. He then goes on to point out that there had been plenty of times that it took forever to get _her_ out of bed too.

This eventually leads to a squabble as the siblings chase each other out of the room, Bean making a low _woof_ as he follows them after hopping off the bed. It’s not too long after that Derek hears a chorus of cheers and parents reminding children to finish eating _before_ chasing after the dog.

Apparently, it’s loud enough that even Stiles laughs a little at that last bit, breath once more ghosting over Derek’s neck and making him shiver, his body almost unconsciously moving back into Stiles’ heat.

Stiles, on the other hand, is quick to pull _away_ and shift his legs over the edge of the bed. When Derek looks back at him, the side of his face is red and Stiles seems to have found something very interesting about the door that the children just ran through.

“Sorry, it’s just that it’s morning and you were pressed all up along me and- Not that it’s your fault!” Stiles’ gaze meets Derek’s before he remembers that he shouldn’t be looking at him, snapping his eyes to the floor. “What I mean is, I don’t want to make this awkward, especially considering Olga and everything.”

Derek blinks, wondering if there was some part of the conversation that he missed. Yes, the nightmares had made him sleepy and more than willing to drop back onto the bed and pass out for a few more hours, but he’s dealt with worse before and they had never made him fade in and out of consciousness.

“Olga?”

“Yeah, **_Olga_**.” Stiles rubs at his face, then reaches over and picks up the folder that he left on the side table the night before. He flicks through the papers, but it seems more for something to do with his hands than for any researching purposes. “You know, the one person in Slate that you made sure to tell you were leaving for a few days?”

“It was actually _two_ people; Olga and Alex. I just thought that Olga was the only one that would’ve cared that I was gone.” Derek moves so that he’s sitting next to Stiles, feeling like he’s on the edge of something, but not completely willing to examine it too closely. “She was the first friend that I made in Slate, I figured the least I could do was tell her I was leaving. I didn’t want her to worry.”

Stiles picks at the comforter, pulling it up over his lap and tugging at a fraying thread. His scent is more petrichor than metallic-lemon now, making Derek relax and bump his shoulder against Stiles’ side.

This makes Stiles finally raise his head, a light blush on his cheeks as he asks, “ _Just_ friends?”

“Yeah. She never smelt interested in me and I...” _was still stuck on the possibility of you, didn’t see myself with anyone else_ , “wasn’t really looking for anyone in a romantic sense - for a night or even longer - anyway.”

Stiles looks like he’s absorbing that information, picking it apart in that ever running mind of his, before he nods and finally stands up. He makes a gesture that Derek interprets as needing to use the restroom, so he nods and watches as Stiles leaves to the room to the attache.

Derek has just pulled off his shirt when he hears running water that he immediately tunes out, trying not to think about Stiles’ naked form stepping into the shower, body relaxed and bending towards the spray...

Shaking his head to push the thoughts out, Derek calls out that he’s going to head to the kitchen to pick up some breakfast, snatching up a shirt from out of his bag and hastily pulling it on. He barely waits for Stiles to respond with an affirmative before he’s heading towards the middle of the house, wondering if he can get away with throwing a quick run in there as well.

Tobias greets him as he enters the kitchen, a smirk growing on his face as he no doubt smells the frustration on Derek’s form. The snarl that Derek sends the Second doesn’t really have a lot of heat in it, just like he knows that Tobias’ teasing is all in good fun.

His thoughts are proven when Tobias lets out a hearty laugh, hands held up in surrender before gesturing at the spread in front of him. Derek is a little surprised at the amount still left, but Tobias explains that the food is more of a brunch type of thing, with the leftovers usually turned into sandwiches for when the ‘wolves come back from runs or training.

Derek picks up a bit of everything, or at least, everything that he can fit on his plate. He chats with Tobias for a bit, asking after Dominic when he sees neither hide nor hair of the man. Tobias grimaces in a way that says he’s partially hiding a smile when he tells Derek that their esteemed Alpha is still dealing with the aftereffects of the drink he had that night.

Their conversation has dimmed down to a few words here and there - inquires about where Derek is going to be spending the next full moon, compliments on the food and chef - when Stiles finally makes into the kitchen, hair damp and-

Derek’s fork starts to slip from his fingers, clattering against his plate and drawing Stiles’ attention from where he’s greeting Tobias. Derek waves away Stiles’ concerned look and instead focuses on his plate, taking short, subtle breaths in between each bite.

Because Stiles is _wearing his shirt_ , and not his clean one, pulled from the bag that had been brought into his room, no. This is the shirt that Derek had worn the night before, his scent seeped into the fabric and mixing with Stiles’ own until-

For the second time in as many minutes, Derek is pulled from his thoughts, this time by a kick to his leg by his dining companion. Baring his teeth at Tobias, Derek is not pleased to see that his smug smirk is back on his face, this time with the knowledge of just what it is that’s tying Derek all up in knots.

“Stiles here was just talking about braving the tempest that is Dominic with a hangover. _I_ was trying to convince him that was a plan worthy of a nice tombstone, but he won’t listen to me. Maybe _you_ can convince him that it would be better to poke at a hornet’s nest than mess with an Alpha in a bad mood.”

“And _I_ was just saying that there are at least ten different things that we need to discuss or start planning with Alpha Dominic before we leave.” Stiles tugs at the thumbholes in Derek’s shirt, moving one of them to his mouth to start chewing on. “True, I don’t know _when_ we’re going to leave, but I also don’t know how long we’re going to _stay_ , and it’s not _my_ fault that our dear Alpha decided to overindulge last night.”

Tobias watches as Stiles mouths at the fabric of his shirt for long enough that Derek lets loose a low warning growl. It makes Tobias blink in surprise, giving Derek an apologetic look as Stiles fills his own plate, before stating that he would try again to see how Dominic was feeling.

He grabs the entire pot of coffee as he leaves, but Derek is distracted from complaining by Stiles dropping into the seat beside him and leaning in, wafting another wave of _them_ under Derek’s nose.

“This is okay, right?” Stiles asks, pulling at his shirt’s collar and giving Derek a glance of his chest and shoulders before the collar drops back into place, “I figured it might be easier, me smelling like you, while we were here.”

Derek can only stiffly nod, hoping that his face does not show the battle that his mind and more primal side are in right now, where part of him just wants to lean forward and press his face into Stiles’ neck before making him smell even more like the pair of them.

The other part of himself, the more rational side that is thankfully in control right now, reminds Derek that he has yet to tell Stiles how he feels and that they’re in an unknown Alpha’s territory right now. Not exactly the best time to start trying to woo Stiles into a relationship...

There is a soft hum from Stiles as he looks Derek over, obviously being able to tell that there is something still bothering Derek, but he seems content to leave it alone for now. Instead, he digs into his plate and begins his morning ramble, asking Derek about all the different creatures that he has ever seen or heard of before, eventually asking about zombies and whether or not there was a chance that those were real.

Derek lets out a soft chuckle, glad to be back to this old conversation, first brought up on the road to the Collins’. He was surprised that Stiles had lasted this long before Stiles brought up the possibility of zombies, certain that it would be the first thing that he asked about.

After reassuring Stiles that zombies were _not_ a thing, no matter what kind of Dark magicks that was out there, Derek gently teases Stiles that he would still make sure he had his brain at the end of the day if it turns out that he was wrong. Stiles snarks back that Derek wouldn’t have to worry, as the zombie would probably _starve_ if it went after _his_ brain.

Derek is just on the verge of snagging Stiles’ bacon for that remark, earning him a cry of protest and only his quick reflexes saving his hand from a fork in the back of it, when Dominic and Tobias come back into the kitchen. Dominic stares between the pair of them in bemusement, coffee pot clutched to his chest like it’s his favorite stuffed toy.

“I’m not sure if you two are flirting or fighting.” Dominic’s confused tone tells Derek that he doesn’t really mean any harm from that comment, but it still causes Stiles to pull away like his ass is on fire, a red flush taking over his face so fast that Derek would be worried if not for the way that Stiles immediately starts waving his hands in the Alpha’s direction.

“Fighting, _definitely_ fighting. The asshole thought it was a good idea to try to steal my bacon!”

“You just basically said that I was brain dead!”

“That doesn’t matter! It’s _bacon_ , Derek! You should know better than to try to snag a man’s bacon!”

Derek growls playfully and makes to dive at Stiles’ plate again, earning a yelp and a mad scramble as Stiles tries to take his plate out of Derek’s reach. He stumbles a bit, nearly knocking into Tobias as he moves around the table, somehow managing to get the coffee pot away from Dominic.

Derek thinks that it might have been the promise of getting more coffee that loosened the Alpha’s claws.

Thankfully, Stiles makes it around the table and does not break anything, immediately going over to Dominic as soon as he catches sight of the older man standing in the kitchen doorway. Dominic blinks at Stiles, obviously still not completely awake but making an effort to focus on the man in front of him.

“Hel _lo_ , oh mighty Alpha. How are you this... afternoon?”

Derek shoves a forkful of food in his mouth to smother his laughter at the way that Dominic winces at Stiles’ slightly louder than normal voice, even if part of him also winces in sympathy. He wonders a little why Stiles is doing this, either to be a shit or because his anger at the other Pack’s inactions hasn’t faded yet, Derek isn’t sure. All he knows is Tobias is looking at the pair with the same kind of humored-sympathetic grimace Derek is supporting, but he doesn’t appear angry, so Derek is going to let this play out for now.

Dominic mumbles some sort of answer, which doesn’t deter Stiles in the slightest as he continues.

“That’s good. I was just thinking about what you said last night, about making up for past mistakes. It had occurred to me that you never sought Derek out after the Hale Fire, or even thought to offer aid to Peter Hale, who everyone knew was in the Intensive Care ward at Beacon Memorial.” Stiles raises a hand when Dominic opens his mouth, already foreseeing a rebuttal coming. Derek has to hand it to him, the fearlessness - which Derek always thought bordered on stupidity - of Stiles when he’s faced with someone much more powerful than him is very present now.

“Now, I get that a few of those years were focused on your family and making sure that there wasn’t anyone coming after you or your own. I get that and _sympathize_ with that. I also meant what I said last night; it had been _ten **years**_. Why didn’t you offer a hand in all that time? _Surely_ after a year or two, you would have realized that there was no one coming after you and that you could move without fear of retaliation?”

Dominic looks like he wants whatever it was that he was drinking last night, but he settles for the coffee that Tobias pushes into his hand as he drops into a chair at the table. He takes a long drink of the brew, almost draining the glass in one go, before he meets Stiles’ eyes once more.

“I am ashamed to say that it took more than ‘a couple of years’ before I felt secure enough to start looking outside of my own territory. By that time, Peter Hale had been moved to a private ward with strict instructions that there was to be no interactions between him and anyone that wasn’t family, his acting nurse, or the doctor that had charge over his case. Derek and Laura had disappeared into the wind, with no one having seen any trace of them until a few years ago when they showed up in New York. By then, my guilt and fear kept me from reaching out to offer any kind of aid.”

“Fear? What could you _possibly_ have to be afraid of?”

“It had come to our attention that the Argents were on the move again, that they had been seen on the outskirts of both Beacon Hills and New York.” Dominic manages to look even more beaten down, something that Derek wasn’t even sure was possible. “I thought that the Argents were on the prowl again, that there would be another fire, another culling... and that I did not want to fall under the Argents' attention by offering my hand.”

Stiles makes an angry noise, moving back to the table only when Derek calls out his name. He looks like he’s about to really lay into Dominic, rip him apart with his words like Stiles is so very apt at, but is stalled by Derek’s hand on his shoulder.

“Did you admit to your father what was happening when all the shit started going down in Beacon Hills?”

A mulish expression crosses Stiles’ face, but he doesn’t do more than shake his head. Derek grips the back of Stiles’ neck, squeezing once to show his gratitude at the anger on his behalf, but Derek understands where Dominic is coming from.

He has been on the other side of the Argent’s ‘tender mercies’, he is the walking, talking, living embodiment of what happens when the Argents ‘take an interest’ in you. Derek has no ill will towards the Collins Pack, both for before and later, for wanting to keep as far away from that family as they can.

It does not seem like Stiles is of the same mind, as the expression on his face is still dark and not very kind towards Dominic at the moment. Thankfully, he seems to be keeping his thoughts to himself for the time being and is instead focusing his ire on the food on his plate.

There is an awkward silence over the table for a good long while before Tobias clears his throat and draws everyone’s attention.

“Well, as entertaining as all of this is, I think it might be time for the two of you to meet with Ellie and get on with Stiles’ training, seeing as this room has become a few degrees hotter than normal... although, part of me wonders if it might be a good idea for Stiles to learn better control over his powers, for fear that - instead of a little heat - there’s going to be a fireball aimed at my Alpha’s head.”

Stiles has the grace to blush at Tobias’ words, dropping his head for a few moments as he lets out a gusty breath. The bit of the heat that had been in the room drops a bit when he raises his head and pins Dominic with a half-hearted glare.

“I’m not going to fry your head off, you were trying to keep your family safe and I can understand that. Hell, even _I_ have done some questionable things in order to keep my Dad safe from all the supernatural shit that went down in our town. It’s just... Even before I met him, before I became someone Derek could even stand, he has had the world’s **_shittest_ ** luck. And it makes me mad, _furious_ really, when I find out that part of that shitty luck is because someone _else_ fucked up or decided not to act. I can tell that you’re really trying to make up for it, but... well, it’s going to be a while before you and I are good, alright?”

Dominic lets out a sigh, heavy and maybe a little relieved, before he nods. “I’m glad that Derek has someone like you at his side, someone to make sure that he is treated with the fairness that he deserves. We could all hope to have such a loyal Packmate.”

Stiles’ face regains the redness that left after he calmed himself, but he gives Dominic a quick nod before excusing himself from the table, muttering something about checking in on Bean before they leave to meet with Ellie.

Derek watches him go with a tug at his heart, wanting to explain that Dominic didn’t mean to upset him with the Packmate comment, but also confused as to why that would upset him in the first place; was it the fact that he was implying that he was part of Derek’s Pack? Derek doesn’t think so, as Stiles has shown how content he has been staying with Derek, even going as far as to wear his shirt in order to help Derek feel more settled having Stiles here in unfamiliar territory.

Or perhaps Dominic reminded Stiles of how Scott treated him before he came to be here, demanding research and help on the various creatures and situations that have come through Beacon Hills, pressing him so much that Stiles was forced to leave school and go backpacking - places Derek was sure had no phone or internet signal - just to get a bit of breathing room?

It would give Stiles further insight to just how much Scott McCall is taking away from him, how wrong his ‘best friend’ was in some regards, making him realize the huge difference between the Collins and McCall Packs.

Thrown out of his musings by a sharp kick to his leg, Derek glares over at Tobias, only for the man to jerk his head towards the door Stiles just left through. “I’m pretty sure that you’re supposed to follow him out there, boy.”

Derek bares his teeth at Tobias, annoyed at the boy line coming from someone who can’t be more than a few years older than him, but he does push back his chair and follow Stiles’ scent. The metal-lemon mixed in with their combined scents, even if it is only on the surface level, makes Derek fight back a whine even as his steps increase.

He finds Stiles out in the backyard, Bean in his lap and a few of the Collins children settled in a circle around him. They’re still bombarding him with questions when Derek makes it to them, dropping down to sit beside Stiles and give Bean a few pats when the pup noses up a greeting towards him.

“He didn’t mean anything by the Packmate comment,” Derek mutters as the kids start arguing about whose question should be answered first. “If he made you uncomfortable-”

“Am I even _part_ of your Pack?” Stiles seems content to ignore the children now, one of them snagging Bean out of his lap as all of Stiles’ attention is on Derek. “ _Can_ I even be a part of your Pack, with you basically being an Omega and me still...”

The last of his sentence trails off like Stiles doesn’t want to say it, like it almost hurts to say it, but then he swallows hard and points the last of his words to the ground.

“Me still part of Scott’s Pack?”

Derek is glad that Stiles is looking away, because those words cause a sharp pain to flare under his chest, making him grimace and clench his fists.

He _knew_ this, knew that Stiles still saw himself as part of Scott’s Pack - however tangentially - and hearing him say it should not hurt Derek so much. Yet, there had been a part of him, a larger part than he cared to admit, that had hoped otherwise every time that Stiles had spoken of the Beacon Hills Pack as “Scott’s Pack” instead of “my Pack”.

It takes a moment or two before Derek can bring himself back under control, and a few more before he remembers that Stiles asked a question. By then, Stiles has curled up onto himself and is watching as the children play with Bean, unconcerned with their questions being answered now that the puppy is within their grasps again.

“I know all I have to offer is myself, that I’m not your best friend since childhood, and that I don’t have a huge Pack to help protect or train you.” Stiles’ head has jerked over to Derek, making him swallow hard before he can continue. “I would be willing to join with the Collins Pack if you- You would need to decide that Beacon was no longer your home, your ‘territory’ as it were. Erica and Boyd-”

Derek stops, breathes in a steadying breath as Stiles moves so that they’re face to face, the children screaming in the background keeping him in the here and now as he finishes his answer.

“Erica and Boyd no longer saw me as their Alpha, no longer saw Beacon Hills as their home. If- if the Alpha Pack had wanted to, and if Boyd and Erica were _willing_ , they could have easily become part of their Pack. There has to be intent and willingness on _both_ sides for a new Packbond to form, but it _can_ be done.”

Stiles just looks at him, staring at Derek like he holds all the secrets to the universe and is just a moment away from sharing them. He breathes out, soft and slow, before asking, “Are- are you saying that you want _me_ as a Packmate? That- that you would be willing to share that kind of bond with me? Would it even _work_ with you still being an...?”

Trailing off once more, Stiles looks down at his hands, fingers twisting between each other and pulling at the fabric of his pants. Derek so desperately wants to reach forward and cover Stiles’ hands with his own, to offer some sort of comfort...

It takes a moment before he remembers that he _can_ , now. That Stiles had opened up to him before and allowed Derek to care for him. So, he does just that; he places a hand on Stiles’, squeezing once before softly promising, “We could make a bond between ourselves, just like you did with Scott in the beginning. I would join the Collins Pack, if you needed more than just me to cut ties with Beacon Hills. I would not blame you if-”

There is a blur of movement and then Derek’s face is being pulled forward so that he is almost nose-to-nose with Stiles, who once more looks at him like he’s trying to find something. A soft huff of air follows, the aroma of burnt metal sweeping the air like a strike of lightning before Stiles breathes out, “You... you _**really**_ mean that. That you- you would make a bond with me, would join an _unknown Pack_ to make me feel settled... **_Why_** , Derek? Why would you go through all of that trouble, just for _me_?”

Derek reaches up and places his hands over Stiles’, struggling with how to say everything that he wants to without coming off like Stiles staying with him is a foregone conclusion, or that the protection he is offering is only going to be there if Stiles stays.

How do you tell someone that they gave your life purpose, _meaning_ , other than the bare survival of a day-by-day existence without sounding deranged or like there is some outside force at work? Derek knows that if he tells Stiles about the bond that he thought they already shared, Stiles will think that is the only reason Derek wants him around. While being very passionate and emotional concerning others, when it comes to himself and how others perceive him - unless you are his father or someone that he has grown up with - Stiles accepts nothing but cold, hard facts.

Just as Derek is opening his mouth to try to explain, there is a sharp cry from one of the children and a sudden burst of copper fills the air.

He’s Beta shifted before he can stop himself, pulling himself out of Stiles grasp - which had gone slack when he had heard the cry as he had turned to see what was happening - and making his way over to the children with a low growl. They part as soon as they see him coming, some of them with tears in their eyes, as nearly everyone tries to explain.

As far as he can make out, some of the older ones started playing a little rougher than normal, making the little ones get worried someone was going to get in trouble. Just as they were about to yell for an adult, one of the older ones managed to draw blood, making everyone panic when they realized that the person hurt was human.

Derek has made it to the child now, curled up over their arm and biting at their lip to keep the whimpers in. He remembers them from this morning; the dark haired Susan that thought that Derek was being lazy by still being in bed. Curled protectively around her is the other child, Charles, and his eyes go wide when he sees Derek approaching.

“It was an accident!” Charles’ voice is panicked and shrill, making Derek wince as he gently pries the boy off who he is now certain is his sister, getting a better look at the wound. “Daniel was just playing with me when Susan jumped in front of him. He didn’t mean it!”

“It’s alright.” Derek hums, trying to remember how to keep his voice calm around children, the adrenaline from smelling blood slowly fading and letting him pull the Beta shift back. “I just need to see the wound, see if we need a Band-aid, or if she needs to go to the hospital.”

There’s a resurgence of whines at that, some of the smaller ones certain that Susan was going to _die_ , and Derek mentally kicks himself for mentioning the hospital in front of them. Most of them probably never set foot in one in their lives, and the others probably only when they were _drastically_ sick.

Stiles’ voice sounds out after that, making Derek feel relieved that he has someone here to help him when he puts his foot in his mouth.

“Why don’t we find a parent or someone that can give Susan that Band-aid? Maybe we can talk them into giving you guys a treat for being so good about playing nice and not leaving Susan alone?”

There is a muttering of agreement at that before there is a padding of retreating feet, Charles making a mulish face that says he’s not moving from his sister any time soon, a cacophony of baby howls following after only a few short minutes of retreating bodies.

A second of silence reigns in the forest before Susan breaks it with a sharp sniffle that has Charles nearly snapping at her.

"What were you _thinking_? I was _fine_. Daniel could have _really hurt you_! You're _human_ , Susan, you can't do stuff like that! You-"

"I **_hate_ ** being human."

Charles looks like Susan just slugged him, but Derek keeps quiet, because he feels like this has been a long time coming. Yet, something also tells him that this is more something between the siblings than Susan's view on the rest of the Collins Pack.

"I _hate_ being told that just because I'm human that I can't do something. I _hate_ that you're so careful with _me_ when you rough house all you want with _Daniel_ , and I **_hate_ ** that it takes **_forever_ ** for me to heal, and you use it as an excuse for me to be shoved to the side!"

There are more tears after that, but both Derek and Charles can smell the frustration rolling off of Susan, causing the boy to whine and try to curl close to his sibling, despite her pulling away from him.

"I hate it. I hate it, _I hate it,_ **_I hate it_**! As soon as I'm old enough, I'm asking Papa Dominic for the Bite and _then_ you'll see! I'll be a better 'wolf than you **_ever_ ** were!!"

“There’s nothing wrong with being human.” Derek rebuts, shifting so that he’s more on Susan’s level, but leaving enough room so that Charles can still stay close to her. That last bit of shouting worries him, makes him wonder if Susan might not turn out to be a 'wolf if she _does_ end up getting the Bite. “I know a human that fights just as hard as _any_ wolf I know, that can be even _more_ loyal, and - despite that he bruises and takes forever to heal - _never_ backs down from a fight. He’s even taken a hit that a 'wolf could shake off easily!”

“Why did he do that?” Charles looks utterly confused by this, little nose wrinkled up like he smelled something bad. “' _Wolves_ are supposed to protect the _humans_ , not the other way around!”

“Because he didn’t believe that just because he was human that he needed to be protected. Or that _he_ couldn’t be the one doing the protecting.” Derek gives Susan a significant look that has the girl straightening a bit, “Because he cared about the person he was protecting so much that he didn’t care if he got hurt, as long as _they didn’t_.”

It takes Charles a moment, but then he’s looking at his sister with new eyes and Derek has to chuckle at the bit of astonishment there. It had been only a few years ago that Derek has the exact same mindset that Charles did; that humans were so much weaker and needed protection. Part of it had been that the few humans in his family had been young when the fire happened, and part of it had been the overwhelming need to believe that had Kate been a regular human and not a Hunter, Derek wouldn’t have fallen so easily under her spell.

Then Stiles had stumbled his way into Derek’s life.

Stiles, who had immediately started researching every post, blog, paper, and myth that he could find about werewolves based on a few odd behaviors his friend was displaying.

Stiles, who had looked an insane werewolf in the eye and basically told him to fuck off.

Stiles, who had thrown a Hunter’s threat back in his face and tossed his own threat in there for good measure.

Stiles, who had gone after not one, but _two_ Alphas. _Combined_. **_With a wooden bat_**.

Stiles, who was apparently standing right behind Derek, something that he didn’t notice until he shifted again. Who had probably heard everything that Derek had said about ‘a human he knew’ going by the expression he was currently sporting.

Derek’s jaw works for a few moments, unsure as to what he should say about what Stiles overheard. He doesn’t look angry or disgusted, but that might be because Susan and Charles can tell there is something going on, given the way they’re looking between Derek and Stiles like spectators at a tennis match.

In the end, Derek goes for the question at the forefront of his mind; “Where are the rest of the kids?”

“One of the adults heard the kids howling and rounded them all up to bring them back to the house.” Stiles moves over to where Derek is sitting, making a low noise as he pokes at the dark lines running up Derek’s arm. “I saw Dominic and Tobias head this way after a few seconds, so I figured it was safe to head back.”

Both of the children make worried noises at hearing Dominic’s name, but stay quiet until the man in question comes up to where they are sitting. Derek is grateful that it doesn’t take that long for the Alpha and his Second to show, as Stiles looks like he’s just on the verge of asking about what Derek said. Not that he thinks that this is going to deter Stiles for long, but he’s still grateful for the reprieve, no matter how short it might be.

Dominic makes a sympathetic noise when he sees the slashes on Susan’s arm, seeing that - while not deep enough to need stitches - they are still deep enough to leave a scar once everything heals up and in definite need of cleaning and bandaging.

“Oh, dear one. What did you do _this_ time?”

The tone is a little sad, but mostly teasing, making Susan let out a little giggle as Dominic scoops her out of Derek’s arms and heads off to the house with her. Charles pauses for a moment, looking between Derek, Stiles, and Tobias before heading off after Dominic, tugging at the Alpha’s shirt and asking a thousand questions as soon as the Alpha turns his attention to the young pup.

Derek goes to follow as well, but is stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He tenses up, the reaction automatic and unconscious, barely keeping from pulling away or lashing out. Stiles must be able to tell that Derek is on edge, because all that he does is squeeze once before he drops his hand, pressing close to Derek’s side instead.

“I hope you know that whole caring too much to let someone else get hurt counted for all the times I came back for _you_ as well. And I don’t need a whole Pack to want to stick around. I just need one oblivious ‘wolf that doesn’t seem to realize that he’s just as willing to throw himself into danger for the people that he cares about, and that he deserves just as much as a safe place as he tries to find for everyone else.”

That’s all that Stiles says as he presses against Derek’s side once more before following after the rest of the group, asking Tobias if he has any kind of medical healing know-how, and how exactly that would work with a ‘wolf, and whether they would need to up the anesthetic dosage for them - if they ever needed it - or if it might be something that the length of time under mattered more than how much they used it for.

Derek can only trail after them, a little off kilter and unsure of how he should be feeling after hearing that. There is a large part of him that believes Stiles is just flustered by how highly that Derek spoke of him - even in passing - so Stiles is trying to turn Derek’s attention back onto his own worth, but there is a small part...

There is a part of him, one that came into being when the word ‘abomination’ left Stiles’ lips and it wasn’t directed towards Derek, which wonders if maybe Stiles... If there could be a chance-

For one of the few times in his life, Derek _trips over his own feet_. He doesn’t fall, but he stumbles enough that Stiles looks back at him with concern and even Tobias stops where he’s standing. Derek waves the pair of them off, certain that they can tell how embarrassed he is by his flub, and it takes a few moments before Stiles does so.

Tobias, on the other hand, is slowly starting to grin at Derek in a way that has always spelled trouble for his future.

“Finally caught on, have you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Derek growls, voice low and eyes on Stiles’ form in front of them. If he hears what they’re talking about...

“I would believe that, given how you reacted when that boy came down wearing your shirt, but I really think that clue-by-four finally hit you in the right spot.”

Tobias raises his hands at the glare Derek sends him for his observation. “I’m not going to say anything, but I really think _you_ should. Either accept that Stiles cares about you, or put that poor boy out of his misery. It’s obvious how much he cares about you and I only caught the tail-end of what he said - both because it was none of my business and it looked like he didn’t want anybody but you to hear anyway - but it seemed enough to practically declare his intentions for all I could tell.”

“He just- He just thinks I’m safe.” Which still confused the Hell out of Derek, but he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. “He’s still part of a Pack that he’s only now thinking about leaving and I’m familiar-”

“I swear to all the Gods in the universe, the only way you could be more oblivious is if you were _actually blind_.” Tobias huffs before speeding up a bit, making Derek look after his retreating form in confusion. “I think that boy might have had a point when he said that some 'wolves are even worse than humans figuring some things out, despite our superior senses!”

A smothered giggle tells him that Stiles heard the last of that little rant, what with Tobias practically shouting it, but Derek doesn’t have time to respond to Tobias’ allegations because they have made it back to the house.

It doesn’t take that long for Susan to get bandaged up, mostly because Dominic rounds the kids up and sends them to do some schoolwork when they keep getting underfoot, and she is then sent off with her brother to the kitchen. Dominic converses for a few moments with Tobias, and then he is walking over to where Derek and Stiles have positioned themselves off to the side.

“I’m grateful that you helped keep Susan from feeling too much of the hurt from that slash.” Dominic rubs a hand over his face, a move that makes Stiles give off a complicated mix of emotions that Derek can’t quite pin down. “She’s _constantly_ trying to do everything that the ‘wolves do and getting into all kinds of scrapes. Her mother regularly tells me that I need to figure out how to make her stop, but I haven’t managed to find a way yet...”

“Maybe try _not_ telling her that she can’t do something because she’s human?” Stiles jumps a little when both Derek and Dominic’s attention turn to him, almost like he’s as surprised as they were at the words that came out of his mouth. It doesn’t stop him from taking a moment, shrugging, and then continuing on though.

“Susan seems to be under the impression that there are certain things that she can’t do _just_ because she’s human. I’m pretty sure that you don’t outright _say_ that she can’t do anything because she’s human, but more that she’s a _kid_ and could get hurt. I’m also pretty sure that you don’t come down as hard on the ‘wolf kids when they do what they’re not supposed to _anyway_ because they heal quicker than the human kids, am I right?”

Once more, Stiles has managed to make Dominic look abashed with just a few words. If they do end up joining this Pack, Derek is sure that it’s going to be an adventure, just not the death defying one his life was before.

“I get that it’s _difficult_ to tell a _wolf_ that _heals_ so quick that it’s almost impossible to tell that they had any wounds that _they should still be careful_.” Stiles’ emphasis makes Derek think that he isn’t talking to only Dominic right now, making Derek give Stiles a look that he just grins back at. “But by not coming down on them about the things that you do with the human kids is making dissent grow among the ranks in the little ones.”

With a stricken expression, Dominic turns back to Derek for confirmation. Not because it looks like he doesn’t believe Stiles, but more that it seems like he’s looking for someone to say that he hasn’t misstepped so badly.

Unfortunately, Derek just shook his head and states, “Susan told me that she was going to ask for the Bite when she was old enough, merely to show her brother that she would be a better wolf than he was, that she would be a better wolf than a _human_.”

“What did you say to that?”

“I mentioned that there was a human that I knew that did everything a wolf did, sometimes even _more_ , and he never let being a human stop him. She seemed to take it to heart and even Charles - that’s her brother right? - looked like he was thinking about what I said.”

There is a heavy sigh from Dominic before he drops his face in his hands, Tobias walking in from the other room to place a hand on his shoulder. Derek can only stand in silence as he watches the Alpha turn everything that they have said over in his mind, Stiles smelling more and more anxious beside him.

It finally becomes too much for Stiles and he’s just opening his mouth, no doubt to apologize and also somehow stick his foot in it, when Dominic finally raises his head.

“This is the second time that you have helped me and my Pack. If you ever decide that you are in need of or want a Pack of your own, _either_ of you, I would be more than willing to try and prove that I am an Alpha worthy of that honor.”

Derek can only stare, stunned at what Dominic has just offered him. Offered both of them. After a few moments, Stiles’ jaw snaps up from where it was hanging and he takes a deep breath in.

“Second?”

Dominic nods, meeting Stiles’ gaze and then Derek’s. “You have helped one of my Pack through something that I had unknowingly put on their shoulders and you also offered a way to keep that from happening again.”

“But that’s just... that’s just human decency! I mean, _anyone_ would try to help-”

“No, they wouldn’t.” Tobias interjects steadily, standing at his Alpha’s side and giving Derek a hint at the place in the Pack that he holds. “Susan has been around many Packs. Not always directly, but enough that she interacts with at least one or two people. While there are still things that we need to correct among our own Betas, those worries of not being good enough as a human were not _only_ of our doing.”

Tobias shakes his head at Dominic’s demanding glare, moving his hands so that they are raised in a placating manner. “I had heard a few of the Packard Betas teasing her for not being able to run as fast as them, and a few of the Beller children asking if she could even taste the food she was eating, without knowing everything that was put in there with her human nose.”

“And the reason that you decided not to tell me this was...?” Dominic’s tone makes it _very_ clear that Tobias better have one _hell_ of a reason for keeping this to himself, or Tobias was in a whole _heap_ of trouble.

“Because even _I_ am guilty of not realizing how differently we treat the human children. I simply thought that the children from both Packs were teasing her the way they do their peers, talking about who can smell the best or run the farthest. I did not realize that she would take the snubs so personally.”

Stiles lets out a short huff of laughter. “I can say that, even if they didn’t bother her _before_ , being shoved to the side because you don’t match up will start to hurt after a while. _Especially_ if one of those people shoving you is your own freaking _brother_.”

Derek winces, hands reaching for Stiles before he clenches his fists and moves them back. While he is slowly coming to realize that Stiles will allow Derek to comfort him, welcomes it wholeheartedly even, Derek is still unsure at how far Stiles will be comfortable allowing him in front of strangers.

Whether by happenstance or some innate gift that he possesses, Stiles leans back a bit right after Derek has held back his unconscious actions, answering his question and giving Derek a reason to tug Stiles closer to his side. Dominic and Tobias both watch with curious looks - while Tobias’ is a bit more smug than Dominic’s - but neither man comments on the embrace.

There are a few moments of silence before Stiles shakes his head, pulling slightly away from Derek. “Look, I appreciate the offer to join your Pack. I’ll keep it in mind, as long as there is no time limit...?”

Both Dominic and Tobias shake their heads, sharing a grin when they realize what the other is doing. It makes a soft, warm scent, with a slightly bitter edge, come off of Stiles as they do so. It takes a moment for Derek to recognize, but he gets it in the end.

Nostalgia.

Dominic and Tobias _do_ remind Derek of Stiles and Scott when he first met them; practically in each other's pockets, able to communicate entire ideas with a few looks between them. It must hurt to see what you thought your friendship would be in a few years, if only something hadn't torn it all away.

Yet, before Derek can pull Stiles back against him and scent him until all the sorrow fades away, Stiles shakes his head like he's shaking the emotion off and plasters a smile on his face.

"Well, time limit or no, I am still part of another Pack, and I _still_ have family more than a few states away. I really think I need to figure out my own shit before I add it to anyone else's." Stiles startles a bit before he glances over to Derek and then back to Dominic. "I mean, I'm not speaking for Derek, of course! He-"

"-isn't interested in joining a Pack, either." Derek reaches forward and gives Stiles' shoulder a gentle squeeze. "At least not right now."

Tobias' gaze gets even more knowing, but all he has to say on the matter is, "Well, then I guess we better introduce the pair of you to Ellie, then."


	14. Taming The Flame

They meet with Ellie in between Slate and where the Collins Pack are living, Dominic telling Derek that he wanted to make sure that Stiles could meet with her no matter what they ended up deciding.

Both Derek and Stiles thank him for that before asking if Dominic would mind watching Bean while they met with Ellie. Dominic tilts his head a bit, something Derek knows means he's listening to a Beta tell the children about Derek's request. There is no need for 'wolf senses to hear the agreeing cheer that the children let out, making Stiles let out a laugh of his own when Dominic says he thinks they'll be just fine in a rather deadpan tone.

Glad that Bean was taken care of, Derek and Stiles make their way to the Camaro, settling in and heading down the road. Only a few miles of quiet pass before the silence is broken.

"What do you think of the Collins' offer?"

Stiles startles, obviously not expecting the question. It takes a moment for him to settle, but then he thinks on it before answering.

"It... it seems too good to be true, if you want my honest opinion." Stiles' hands start dancing over his knees, tapping out an anxious rhythm before he begins picking at his lower lip and pulling at his pants leg. "I mean, we were only there for a _day and a half_. Yeah, I get that part of it was because they felt guilty about not helping you, Laura and Peter out, but why include _me_ in that?"

"I had already said-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know you said that you would join them if you thought I needed it." Stiles' tone makes it seem like nothing for Derek to do that, but the flush on his cheeks and the way his heartrate kicks up tells another story. "Do you think they heard that? That they wanted you in their Pack enough that they offered a place to the puny human?"

"Stiles, if there is one thing that you're _not_ , it's _puny_." The flush on Stiles' face deepens at that, despite Derek growling the words. "And I think that the Collins Pack are well off enough that they don't need one lousy Omega, no matter _what_ his last name is."

"Derek Hale, you are many things, but you are not _lousy_." Stiles almost completely mimics how Derek spoke only a moment before, right down to the growl, but there is an earnestness in his voice that makes Derek very glad that he has to focus on driving, otherwise he's sure that he would wind up embarrassing himself.

"So, that only leaves the obvious - that they really _wanted_ us to join their Pack - but like I said before, it feels too good to be true." Stiles has thankfully kept his attention on the conundrum that is Dominic's offer, so Derek has time to get himself back under control. "What could they possibly have to gain from it, other than a guy that had _no clue_ he was special past a few days ago and a Sourwolf who communicates mostly in eyebrow?"

Derek raises one of those eyebrows now, mostly to just hear Stiles chuckle. "Well, their kids _do_ seem to like Bean a lot."

The comment turns Stiles' chuckle into full blown laughter, head thrown back and body arching, lemony anxiety overcome by peppery warmth and ozone. Derek finds himself smiling as well, content to listen to Stiles talk about how hard it will be to get Bean back home after all of this.

Derek also can’t help the warmth that fills him whenever Stiles refers to Derek’s place in Slate as _home_. Yes, he knows that Stiles is struggling with letting go of Beacon Hills and everything that holds him there, but every time that Stiles offhandedly calls Slate home just makes that warmth grow.

Their conversation about how to wrangle a deliriously happy puppy away from a whole gaggle of children lasts until they come up on a bright tan house with white trim sitting on a decent bit of open land. Taking a deep breath as he exits the car, Derek can scent woodsmoke, baked bread, and the lingering traces of the Collins Pack around the edges of the property.

“I think this is the place.” Derek hums, watching as Stiles also exits the Camaro, an uneasy feeling tightening his shoulders as Stiles stares off into the trees. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah... I just thought I saw something, just for a second there.” Stiles turns towards Derek and leans against the Camaro, looking for all the world as if he was simply having a conversation about the scenery. Facing Derek, he drops his voice so low that anything non-supernatural would be hard pressed to hear him. “Can you hear anything? A heartbeat or anything that might tell us if we need to be on our guard?”

Derek smiles a little at Stiles, looking like he just said something funny, while he strains his hearing to the very farthest reaches of the property. He can hear a few small creatures burrowing in the woods, one or two larger ones grazing further in, a pair of hikers skirting the edges of the property and a steady heartbeat in the house.

“I think you might have seen a deer or something.” Derek replies, pushing off of the Camaro and heading towards the house. “I was like that for a while both after I came back to Beacon Hills and when I left it, jumping at everything that I saw, convinced that it was something that would hurt me.”

Stiles frowns, drifting closer to Derek and bumping his shoulder against Derek’s in solidarity. “I get that. I still need to double check certain things after... after everything that had happened. It makes sense that this is just something _else_ that I have a problem with.”

The last bit is said with derision, like Stiles can’t believe that there is _more_ that he has gained from his time as the Nogistune. Derek rumbles out a soothing growl, reaching out and rubbing a hand over Stiles’ shoulders. The scenting calms the pinch in his stomach he always gets whenever he thinks back on those sleepless days trying to find Stiles and make sure that he wasn’t lost to the darkness. It also seems to calm Stiles a bit as well, the younger man leaning into Derek’s touch for a moment before moving away.

Tapping a quick rhythm on the door, Derek moves so that he is standing next to Stiles as they wait. He wonders what this Ellie person is like; Dominic hadn’t said anything about her, just that she would help them and that there wasn’t any need for reparation from either Derek or Stiles. While part of him balks at thinking he would be in anyone’s debt, Derek tries to not immediately dismiss the help that has been offered to them, or try to find the angle the Collins might be coming from.

He figures Stiles is paranoid enough for the both of them.

Hearing movement from inside the house, Derek gives Stiles’ shirt sleeve a light tug - more to get his attention than to move him - before the door opens.

Ellie turns out to be a woman in her mid thirties, dark hair and bright eyes, only a few inches shorter than both Derek and Stiles. She looks them over, eyes lingering a bit on Stiles in a way that makes Derek shift a bit closer, before she asks, “You’re the pair that Dominic said would be coming, aren’t you? Derek and Stiles?”

“That’s us.” Stiles answers, while Derek takes another - albeit much more subtle - scent of the air. “You’re supposed to be the one that's going to help me figure out this whole flame aura thing?”

While her scent carries the woodsmoke that Derek detected earlier, there is an added peppery sharpness that burns at Derek’s nose. It’s also mixed with a cinnamony warmth that reminds Derek of spiced cookies and colder months, something that only carries a dull ache at the remembering.

“I know about flame auras, yes.” Ellie replies, tugging Derek back into the present. “Yet, there are many flame auras, just as there are many werecreatures. We will have to test what you can do and find out where your powers lie to see how much I will be able to help you.”

“You’re not going to have me sit in a meditative stance for hours on end, are you?” Stiles moans, moving out of the way as Ellie exits the house, locking the door behind her. “Because I can tell you, that will just end in tears. For both of us.”

That earns him a bit of a chuckle, but Ellie just shakes her head as she leads them around the house and to a cleared area fenced off from the rest of the property. Opening it up, it turns out to be a tamped down area covered in sand and a few metal buckets on the edges. Derek heads towards them as Ellie leads Stiles toward the middle and sees that they are all filled with water.

Ellie and Stiles are still talking, but Stiles seems to be gaining more and more interest the longer they speak. It sounds like Ellie is explaining a few different creatures that have flame auras, such as hellhounds and phoenixes, which makes Stiles almost burst with how excited he gets.

After that, Stiles takes to his training the way he does with all things; with all that he is and with little regard for his own safety. It’s a bit nerve wracking watching him run headfirst into things, it always was, but Stiles is _literally_ dealing with **_fire_ ** here.

Derek thinks he’s within his rights to be anxious.

The first lesson is a bit of a learning experience, for Derek and Stiles both.

It starts out simply enough; Ellie tells Stiles to ‘visualize his intent and pull it forward’, telling him that his powers rely very heavily on his will. He needs to see what it is that he wants, so Stiles does just that.

He closes his eyes and makes a pulling motion, two vivid purple flames flowing down his arms to his palms so quickly that his first reaction is to yelp in surprise and shake his hands like that will get the flames off.

Unfortunately, the sound of his distress pulls Derek’s wandering attention and the first thing he sees is Stiles trying to bat the flames away. It causes an immediate reaction from the werewolf; he bolts over to Stiles, crying out the younger man’s name and smacking at his arms, his panic making him forget to keep an eye on his strength and the first few hits have Stiles crying out in pain.

“Derek. _Derek_ , I’m okay. For fuck’s sake, Derek, **_stop_**.”

It takes a few moments for the words to get through, for Derek to realize that the flames are gone, but he does and then he flinches when he sees the marks of his frantic actions already darkening on Stiles’ skin.

He starts to move away, but Stiles’ hands catch at his shirt and pull him back in. “Hey, no. It’s okay. It looks worse than it is, I bruise like a peach anyway. I should have thought of this before we started. I’m not mad at you for reacting the way you did, I’m mad at myself for not thinking that _seeing me on fire_ might dig up some bad memories.”

“I must apologize as well.” Ellie stops at the warning growl that Derek throws her way, not quite out of the panicked mindset he was in a few moments ago. “I had not expected Stiles to be able to pull the flames forward that... _expertly_. I thought that there would be a brief flame, a flicker or two, not something that would have made Johnny Storm proud.”

“I refuse to say ‘Flame on!’ to summon my powers.” Stiles’ quip makes Ellie chuckle and that, along with the soothing motions his hands are still running over Derek’s body, finally calm the last of his fear.

“I would hope not.” Ellie sniffs, only holding her stern expression for a few moments before breaking into giggles. They travel between the three of them, causing the lot of them to try to gather themselves, only for someone to meet the other’s eyes and start everyone off again.

It’s a release of pressure and panic, clearing the air and making it almost easy for Derek to lay back onto the sand underneath them. He counts backwards under his breath, just waiting for Stiles to-

“Hey, Ellie. What did you mean by ‘weren’t really expecting’ for me to, you know.” Stiles makes that same pulling motion again, causing Derek to tense up almost unconsciously, before gently easing back down when no flames show.

"Were you able to run as a newborn? Or did you crawl first?"

"That depends. Are you asking me or my Dad?" There is a flicker of something, there and gone again, before Stiles is shaking his head with a soft chuckle. "When my Mom was alive, she would call me her little _szybki_."

Ellie smiles at the nickname before returning to her point. "All creatures, whether supernatural or not, have a period where they come into their powers. Where they learn what they can and cannot do. I was not expecting such a display from someone that had not shown any unique talents aside from an aptitude with mountain ash."

Stiles shrugs in a way that says he's just as surprised as she is. "Our Emissary who wasn't really an Emissary wasn't all that keen in teaching me anything else about magic, stating that I was 'just a spark' and didn't have the fortitude for anything more difficult."

"More like you had already surpassed what he could do and he didn't want to admit it." Ellie sniffs, her face twisted an expression of distaste. "There is no such thing as 'just' a spark. A spark is someone that has a very large force of will, who can control and bend many objects, mountain ash only one among them. I could see him being a bit petty about not being as powerful, but to have you around for _years_ and not even _try_ to help flourish your talents??"

Ellie looks utterly irate now, fists clenching like she's just a moment away from swinging at someone. She seems to realize that her reaction is making Derek and Stiles uneasy, taking a deep breath and exhaling slowly, fingers spread out as she does so.

"I apologize. A spark's well-being is tied to their ability to learn and use their gifts. Not doing so can lead to heightened emotional stress and _severe_ depression. A spark starved of proper stimulus can become _very_ susceptible to all _manner_ of things."

Derek is given the unpleasant sensation of understanding what Stiles saw when Derek realized just how far Deaton’s mechanisms went; Stiles goes completely white and he folds over himself, breaths coming in short puffs, making Derek shift his grip so that Stiles is practically in his lap. He emphasizes his breathing, pressing against Stiles’ back so that he can feel his heartbeat and match his breathing to Derek’s.

Ellie now looks even more upset than when she was ranting about Deaton’s negligence. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to- I was only trying to-”

Stiles shakes his head, reaching out for her and clasping her hands, voice still lost as he tries to catch his breath. Ellie makes a soft noise and squeezes his hands back, eyes tracking the soothing motion that Derek’s making over Stiles’ shoulders before coping him by brushing her thumbs over the back of Stiles’ hands.

“It’s not you. It’s fucking _Deaton_. I was... I helped my friends do a ritual to open up the Nemeton, to protect our parents.” Stiles winces after he says ‘Nemeton’, making Ellie grimace and loosen her grip, a whispered apology floating between them before Stiles continues. “He said that it was the _only_ thing that we could do, he said that about _a lot_ of stuff. And now, knowing that I had _some_ kind of magic, something that we could use and _didn’t_ leave me vulnerable to-”

Stiles freezes and then it’s Ellie that is wincing at the grip he has on her hands. He doesn’t seem to notice, instead pulling her close and demanding. “This flame aura thing isn’t because of _that_ , is it? I don’t want- I don’t want _anything_ from that thing. The nightmares were enough, the _guilt_ is enough. Please tell me that this isn’t because of that thing, _**please**_!”

Ellie’s eyes get wide, mouth falling into a moue of surprise as she gasps, “It was _you_. There were whispers, but I never imagined that the one possessed was a _human_. I thought that it was a 'wolf, or even the _banshee_...”

“ ** _Ellie_**...” At the choked note entering Stiles’ voice, Derek decides to hell with everything and pulls Stiles the rest of the way into his lap, a warning growl thrown Ellie’s way that finally seems to snap her out of her stupor.

“Stiles, your aura might be the _only_ reason that you managed to survive the Void. Your spark fought so fiercely that you grew into a **_flame_** and that kind of darkness couldn’t survive in that.” Ellie’s eyes fill with tears as she looks at Stiles with a wonder that trembles on the edge of reverence. “ _You saved yourself_ , with _no_ training and by _sheer force of will_. That kind of thing has not been heard of from a human spark in _centuries_.”

Her tone makes Stiles shift uncomfortably in Derek’s lap, even going as far as to hide his face in Derek’s neck. “I didn’t really do anything, it was Scott’s Call that-”

“So you were not fighting before then? You weren’t keeping _a thousand year old creature_ away from your family and friends through _sheer will and determination_?” 

Stiles doesn’t seem to have a rebuttal for that, given by the sharp poke he gives Derek’s side, as well as the grumbled, “Feel free to chime in at any time here, big guy.”

“Why? I agree with her.”

That earns him an entire body flail, making Derek tighten up his grip before Stiles falls out of his lap. Stiles manages to give him a look that is both thankful and resentful at the same time, miraculously, and Derek can’t help but chuckle at that.

“I didn’t _do_ anything. All I did was scream at the Void in my mind, crying at it and playing games. Riddles and Go and darkness, and moments where I thought I was _so close_ to telling someone what was going on only to have it take over and easily convince them everything was fine. **_Days_ ** where I wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or if I really was the one moving my body. I _still_ have days where-”

Stiles cuts himself off with a gasp as Derek’s arms tighten around him, Derek hearing his heart kick up and smelling the increased sweat his body is giving off. He didn’t want Stiles to have another panic attack, not so soon after the first one, and he gave Ellie a look over Stiles’ head that said that she was to drop the subject.

 **_Now_**.

Ellie follows Derek’s lead and moves away from Stiles so that she can stand up, brushing a bit of sand off her pants as she goes. “I think it might be better if we discuss this later. I’m going to give you two a few minutes, and then I want us to try the exercise again. This time, I want you to gradually bring the flames to form. That way I can see what kind of control you have and what we need to work on.”

That said, Ellie moved to the other side of the fenced-in area, marking things out in the sand and giving them the illusion of privacy.

It only takes a few deep breaths before Stiles is moving away, a few more before Derek can bring himself to let him. He gets up from the ground, dusting himself off and offering Stiles a hand only a moment later. Stiles grimaces, but still takes it, squeezing gratefully when he gets to his feet.

“I _really am_ nothing special, Derek. I don’t want you getting your hopes up just because some random lady said-”

“Whether you’re the next supernatural Jesus or not makes no difference to me, Stiles.” His interruption garners him a frustrated look, but Stiles still allows him to finish. “When I let you into my house, you were just Stiles. After I found out you had a flame aura, you were _still_ just Stiles. Your supernatural side will be part of you, yes, but everything that you think and _are_ hasn’t changed. And that’s _all_ that matters to me.”

The words earn him a flushed face and one of the few times that Derek has really seen Stiles speechless. He can’t help the way that he preens at that, as he heads over to the metal buckets on the side of the fence, listening to Stiles walk over to where Ellie is standing and tell her that he’s ready to start training again.

Derek hopes that this time, he’ll just throw water over Stiles’ head instead of nearly beating him black and blue.


	15. It's Real

The next few days follow the same pattern; Derek and Stiles eat with the Collins Pack, drive out to where Ellie is, and Stiles works on getting his flame powers under control.

(Derek hasn’t freaked out since the first day, certain that half of the reason he reacted the way he did was because Stiles’ heart went crazy when he was training. Watching him react with shock and awe at all the things he could do has made it a lot easier for Derek to see Stiles with flames all over his body.)

Afterwards, they went back to the Collins Pack and helped with chores, talked to the Betas, and discussed between them what their next steps would be. There were a few times that Derek had seen Stiles reading the folder that Dominic had given them, but it was always put away whenever Stiles noticed him looking. When Derek asked about it, Stiles said that he was thinking up a plan for what to do with Deaton and that he would let Derek read the folder’s contents later. Right now, he just wanted Derek to relax and enjoy being in the middle of a Pack again.

So, Derek left it alone. There was a part of him that wondered about the contents, wondered if he should be pressing to look into who and/or what Deaton was, but he _trusted_ Stiles. If he said that he was making a plan and that it wasn’t quite time for Derek to look into the folder, then Derek was going to do as Stiles instructed and enjoy his time with Dominic’s family.

Susan in particular was very keen on spending as much time as she could with Derek and Stiles, which had almost caused little Charles to have a major fit the first time he had asked his sister to play with him and she had told him no.

Luckily, Tobias was there to snatch the boy up before Derek got a claw in his shin, but ever since then, Charles had spent almost all his time sulking and whining that the newcomers were trying to steal his sister.

Unfortunately for him, there wasn’t really anyone on his side; the rest of the children his age were more concerned with getting in as much play time as they could with Bean, the older ones had chores and schoolwork to do, and the adults were either wrangling children, doing their own chores, or saw Susan and Derek bonding merely a stepping stone to Derek joining the Pack.

Derek still wasn’t sure on where he stood in that regard, with Stiles not saying anything either, and changed the subject whenever anyone asked about it. He was happy that Susan seemed happy to spend time with him - and by extent, Stiles - but also didn’t want to give anyone false hope one way or another.

This went on for a few weeks, until the next full moon run was scheduled. When Dominic had asked if Derek and Stiles were joining them, Derek had looked over at Stiles to see if he had anything to say. Stiles had just stared back at him, not even his scent giving away what he thought of the matter. Derek hadn’t wanted to pressure Stiles to join by joining himself, and he wasn’t sure if he deserved to join anyway, so he chickened out and told Dominic that they would be going back home for now.

Dominic had looked disappointed, followed by a bunch of forlorn cries when the children had heard Bean was leaving, but he had accepted the decision and swore that a run with the family was still on the table if either Derek or Stiles decided later that they were willing to join.

It was never an insistent offer, or a pressuring one. It was more like when your mother reminds you that you’re always welcome to come and visit. It was warmth and welcoming, and yes, maybe a little smothering.

Derek is almost ashamed of how much he _wants_ that.

He thinks about it the entire drive home, Stiles chattering to Bean about how much of a Popular Puppy he was and promising that they would be back to visit, throwing a small smile Derek’s way as he does.

Derek can’t help but smile back, thinking about everything that Stiles has said about how much he deserves a safe place, somewhere to _belong_ , a _home_ to come to at the end of the day.

Why has he been denying himself that?

Erica and Boyd immediately come to his mind, his family a group of ghosts behind them.

While the pain from his family has dimmed a bit, a dull ache instead of the stabbing pain that feels like he just lost his Pack bonds, the loss of Erica and Boys still weighs heavily on him. They were way too young and Derek asked so _much_ of them, desperate to make himself a family out of the broken pieces of what was left of his last one.

Stiles leads the way into the house, Bean barking happily as Stiles makes plans for dinner and asks the puppy if he thinks he deserves a treat for being such a good boy while they were visiting another Pack. Bean, hearing the word ‘treat’ and seeing Stiles moving toward the cupboard that they were hidden in, immediately begins yipping and bouncing around.

Laughing, Stiles pulls the treats out and feeds Bean a few of them, play-groaning at the slobber on his hands. Wiping them off on the dog just earns him a lick on the cheek, which causes Stiles to _really_ complain.

Shaking his head, Derek pulls together some of his veggies to make a side to whatever meat Stiles is pulling out of the fridge, moving around him with the ease and comfort of practice.

The conversation over dinner is easy and it isn’t until he’s washing the dishes, Stiles watching a movie in the other room, that he really stops and thinks about why he’s kept himself from accepting the Collin’s Pack offer.

It’s true that he didn’t want to pressure Stiles into accepting, but when has Stiles ever done anything that he hasn’t _wanted_ to do? Unless there were outside forces at work, Stiles only did what _he_ wanted.

So, Derek takes a long look at himself and realizes then that he’s been afraid.

The _entire time_ he was in Beacon Hills, he was afraid; even later, when he was with Braedon and the whole issue with the Deadpool came up, it had been a numb acceptance that he was going to die one day.

Looking over to where Stiles is so absorbed into the movie that he’s actually _leaning forward_ a bit, Derek doesn’t feel that now. It’s more of a swooping anticipation that has his stomach in knots, but he doesn’t feel the normal accompaniment of wanting to run away.

So he walks into the living room and sits down next to Stiles, touching his shoulder and reveling in the easy way Stiles moves his attention from the movie to Derek, grin still in place as Stiles looks at him. It makes it so easy to press his lips against Stiles’, to lean in a bit so that his intentions are clear, to show Stiles Stilinski just how much he has come to mean to one Derek Hale.

And, for a few moments, everything is perfect.

Then Derek is smelling a sudden rush of salt and Stiles is pulling back, even going so far as to get up off of the couch and walk a few steps away.

It’s so fast that Derek doesn’t really have time to feel rejected; it’s more a sudden confusion that makes a low whine slip from his throat, because he remembers feeling Stiles leaning in as well, felt him press into the kiss and welcome Derek wholeheartedly, so why was he pulling away now…?

Moving slowly, Derek pushes off the couch and makes his way to where Stiles is standing, the other man’s shoulders shaking slightly as Derek places his palm there, unable to keep from stroking a comforting thumb against the back of Stiles’ neck.

A call of his name causes those shoulders to tense up, but Stiles doesn’t turn, so Derek maneuvers around him so that they’re facing each other. He keeps his hand where it is, feeling like Stiles needs it there almost as much as Derek does.

The sight that greets him when they’re face-to-face almost breaks Derek’s heart; there are streaks of tears pouring down Stiles’ face, his eyes squeezing shut even tighter when Derek reaches up and places a hand on his cheek.

“I always wake up at this point… Don’t- don’t make me wake up, Derek, _please_ … Let me keep this. Please, Derek. Don’t- **_don’t_** -”

“Stiles…” Derek is just about to reassure the other man that everything is alright, that he’s right here and isn’t dreaming - even thinking on pulling their pack bond that’s slowly becoming clearer and clearer - when he’s suddenly thrown back into his own terror-filled memory of being unsure if reality was what he thought it was and Stiles’ advice.

(He had asked, after... _everything_ and when he was sure that he was _there_ , how Stiles had known whether he was dreaming or not. Stiles had given him this look and muttered something about having extra fingers or toes in dreams. That had been the one of the few times that Derek had thought he felt the pulse of the bond he thought connected them.)

Moving slowly, Derek takes his hands away from Stiles’ face and neck, trying to keep the whimper that falls from Stiles’ lips from bothering him as he instead takes the younger man’s hands in his own, pressing a kiss against one digit.

Thumb, pointer, middle, ring, pinky… Pinky, ring, middle, pointer, thumb.

After each kiss, Derek counts off, “One… two… three… four… five… six… seven… eight… nine… ten.”

It takes a few turns before Stiles’ breathing eases, before the tears slow and then eventually stop falling, but his eyes are still shut, and Derek pauses for a moment at the end of his count before pressing a kiss against Stiles’ lips once more.

This time Stiles presses back, practically throwing himself into Derek’s arms and gripping so tightly that Derek is certain that he’s going to have marks, superior healing or not.

And he doesn’t _care_.

He _wants_ to carry Stiles’ marks, _wants_ to hold him like this and smell how happy that Stiles is, like this is a dream come true. And with how he reacted, this very well _could be_.

Ain’t that a kick in the head? Stiles; loyal, determined, _stubborn_ Stiles wants him.

 **_Him_**.

Stiles has given Derek a few more kisses, but then just presses his body close, almost as if he’s trying to fuse them into one. It’s a little strange - but in _such_ a good way, as odd as that is - that Stiles isn’t pulling at his belt or trying to untuck his shirt. He had thought that would have been Stiles’ first move, as soon as he realized that Derek was interested in him.

Instead, Stiles is just pressed against him, pushing him back onto the couch again, nearly tipping them over, if not for Derek quickly shifting their weight to counterbalance themselves. His eyes are still shut, which is starting to worry Derek, but before he can say anything, they slowly open.

Warm, honey colored eyes look back at him with _so much_ emotion that Derek can’t help but reach up and cup Stiles’ face in his hands. He presses his forehead against Stiles’, breathing in and out, thumbs rubbing gentle caresses over the arch of Stiles’ cheeks.

“It’s real, Stiles. I _promise_ , it’s real.”

His words earn him a sob, Stiles pressing close again, leaning up every so often for a kiss and a quiet ‘It’s real.’ that Derek echoes back at him.

The rest of the night passes that way, neither one of them wanting to let the other go, both hoping that the promise that they were whispering came true with the morning’s light.


	16. Goodbye

The counting becomes a thing after that; while they were still wrapped together in the morning, every so often, Derek will see Stiles looking down at his hands, muttering under his breath before he reacts to certain things. It could be anything from a kiss to simply waking up without a nightmare. It hurts to see, but if that is what it takes for Stiles to feel like he can let his guard down, for him to feel _safe_ , Derek will gladly hold his hand as Stiles counts before kissing him back. 

Derek had thought that, after quelling Stiles’ fear that this was all a dream (something that even _Derek_ felt every now and again, to be honest), that everything else would simply fall into place. He had become so used to peace and quiet, or as quiet as it could be with Stiles’ chatter slowly returning to what it had been when Derek had left Beacon Hills, that he had become complacent.

He had forgotten how the universe loved using him as its chew toy.

It had started when he woke up in his room to the smell of bacon and eggs, Stiles’ voice humming in the background and Bean’s little whines that says the dog is trying to beg some scraps from Stiles. It surprises Derek that he’s slept so late, as he usually is up far before Stiles, making him worry that the other man had a nightmare and didn’t get as much sleep as he should have.

Pushing back the covers, Derek makes his way to the kitchen, intent on helping Stiles with breakfast and perhaps sweet-talking him into watching a few movies as they ate. He didn’t want Stiles to burn himself if he was half asleep and knew trying to get him to let Derek take over would get balked, so this was a decent compromise.

He only gets a few steps down the stairs before Stiles’ voice flies up, sharp and angry, “I _said_ , I’d get there when I’d get there. Make sure that someone checks in on my Dad until I do. **_Goodbye,_ **Scott.”

Bean lets out a whimper as something thuds against the table, the clicking of his toenails telling Derek that the pup is now undoubtedly pressed against Stiles’ legs, trying to make the human feel better and stop the ragged breaths he’s taking.

Derek is glad that the pair of them are too far away to hear him, because he’s having a bit of problem breathing as well, and had to sit down on the stairs before his legs gave out on him. 

He had known that Stiles was still helping Scott, had seen him send the boy a few emails detailing various monsters and their weaknesses, but he had assumed that was as far as Stiles’ involvement with the ‘True Alpha’ went.

It seems like he was wrong, and he should’ve realized that. After all, hadn’t Stiles told him that he had to leave school due to the demands on his time? How _arrogant_ of Derek to think that just because he was a few states away, that he had any more of a chance to keep Stiles here.

Derek swallows hard, knowing that Stiles’ mind is already made up, and can’t help the sudden pain in his chest at the knowledge that Stiles will be gone in a few days’ time.

If that.

Taking another deep breath, Derek pushes himself to his feet and begins to make his way down to the kitchen before Stiles decides to come looking for him. The last thing that he needs is for Stiles to come and see that the mere thought of him leaving has Derek falling to pieces.

In the end, it doesn’t matter; as soon as he enters the kitchen, Stiles takes one look at him and the welcoming smile that was on his face just drops down into an uncomfortable sigh.

“You heard that, didn’t you?”

Derek nods, moving over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup, hoping that the action is enough to steady the trembling in his hands.

“It’s- It was Scott. Apparently there was something in the Preserve that they can’t figure out and they need me there to help. It already almost got my Dad, Derek, and I can’t be halfway across the world if something is going after him...”

Derek just stays silent as Stiles rants at him, waiting the words out and breathing deeply. He _knew_ that this would happen, that there would be something that pulled Stiles back to Beacon Hills. Whether it was Scott, his father, or even _Melissa_. As long as he still thought of himself as part of the Pack, there would be the siren’s call that brought him back.

Eventually, Stiles realizes that Derek isn’t saying anything, and he’s worked himself up decently by now, so he snaps, “Why aren’t you arguing with me? Demanding that I stay here? Growling about how I don’t owe anyone there anything and that this place is _so much better_ for me than that Hellhole?” 

“Because you already listed everything out that I could possibly say, because you already know just _why_ I don’t think you should go back. But I also don’t want to spend the last bit of time we have together fighting, so how about I help you finish breakfast and we watch a couple of movies before you go?”

Stiles’ face pinches, mouth opening like he wants to say more, but Derek brushes past him and makes his way to the pan, pulling the bacon cooking in there out before it burns. There’s a few moments of silence before a light touch lands on his shoulder.

“I’m… I’m gonna come back, you know that, right?”

Derek dips his head into a nod and barely keeps the ‘but for how long?’ held behind his lips.

Stiles seems to hear it anyway, because his grip tightens and there is a warm body pressed against his back. “Derek. I _promise,_ I’m going to come back. I _need_ to help with this, make my peace with Beacon Hills and maybe even tell Scott face-to-face that I... that I don’t think that I can be Pack anymore.”

Derek breathes out slowly, listening to the steady heartbeat pressed against his back, the feel of Stiles’ weight against him. He lets that center him, takes the shifting ground underneath him and turns it back into something balanced.

“I believe you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry.


End file.
